Letting Go
by hazelmom
Summary: The relationship between McGee and Tony is tested to its limits. Completed!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I started this story about a month ago, but I've been hesitant to share. Still, I need some joy in my life and writing gives me that.

It's a story about the bond between McGee and Tony. In the story, they both make mistakes, and I am trying to do justice to both of them. If you're a Tony fan that thinks McGee gets away with everything or a Tim fan that thinks Tony gets away with everything, this is not the story for you. I'm trying to explore the complex bond these two guys have with one another despite being two very different characters. I love both characters. Enough said.

Dedicated to Chelsea for taking the time to give me real feedback and for being a Tony fan who can appreciate the entire NCIS family.

Sheila

**Letting Go**

Chapter 1

His chest hurt bad from running too hard up ten flights of steps and air came out of his mouth in a wheeze. Tony sounded just as bad. They circled her carefully, and McGee was glad to let Tony do all the talking. He would never be the wordsmith his partner was.

She was young, a teen-ager. Despite the cold, she was dressed in nothing but pink t-shirt and jeans and she trembled as she stood on the concrete ledge on the roof of her school on the Naval base.

"What's your name, honey?" DiNozzo's voice was as smooth as a milkshake.

"Doesn't matter," she said, shaking her head. She looked over the side of the building, and her trembling increased. "Why are all those people down there?"

Tony glanced at McGee and he nodded. Slowly, he inched closer to her outside of her line of sight.

Tony took a breath. "A lot of people care about you. You don't want to hurt yourself. You have a family and friends."

"You don't know that!" she retorted. "You don't anything about me!"

"I know that you're breaking my heart right now. Tell me something about you."

"I bet you don't know what it's like to have everyone in your high school call you a slut."

Tony winced. "I'm sorry, honey."

"I got drunk at a party and some boys took advantage of me and then they took pictures and posted them on facebook and twitter."

"I can help you with that. You show me those pictures and we'll find out who did it, and I will stop them."

"Everyone will blame me if you do that." She shifted on the ledge and Tony's heart jumped. She was so close that a strong wind was capable of making the decision for her. He was afraid to glance at McGee. She was so focused on him that she'd forgotten he had a partner. McGee moved closer.

"Honey, if you step down, we can have a real talk, and I promise that we can fix these things."

"I don't even know you, mister." She reached one foot back and perched it on the edge.

"Listen to me! My name is Tony and I'm a cop, and I can make things happen. You just have to step down so we can have that conversation. We will get you in another school and I will personally deal with anyone who touched you inappropriately."

She stopped moving.

"I promise you it will be okay."

She stared at him, her eyes puffy from crying, and in that moment, he knew he had her. She shifted and he knew she was getting ready to climb off the ledge, but in that moment, she also put too much weight on the foot perched on the edge and it slipped. She teetered for a split second and then her body followed her leg off the edge.

A scream caught in DiNozzo's throat and he lunged forward. McGee was closer and he dove onto the ledge and for a second, it looked like he was going over with her. He jerked, half of his body hanging over and the other half clinging desperately to the concrete ledge.

DiNozzo was on top of him in an instant. He looked over the edge and saw McGee clutching her hand. The girl looked up with terrified eyes.

"Help," McGee grunted. His hold on her was tenuous. Tony tried to scramble and reach for her, but the angle was wrong, and he knew if he reached any further, the three of them would topple over together.

"McGee," he said through gritted teeth. "You have to swing her. Just swing her a little and I can reach her."

"No! I don't have a good grip!"

"Okay! I'm going to start pulling you up." Tony reached for his upper arm.

"Tony! She's slipping!"

"You hold her, Tim! You hold her!" Tony jerked at his arm again.

"Hurry!" McGee screamed. Sweat from exertion took over and his hands slipped until he only had her fingers. DiNozzo lunged past him and grabbed for her, but in that second, there was only air. Both men gripped the ledge as she fell backwards, eyes wide open, and landed with a thud on the concrete below. There were screams from the crowd, and fire and military police sprang into action.

"No!" McGee cried as Tony pulled him off the ledge. He slumped against the concrete. "Oh God, I tried so hard!"

Tony was too agitated to sit. "I was so close. So close! If I could've grabbed her, she'd be safe, but you let go! Why did you let go?"

"Where were you, Tony!" Tim shouted as he winced at the pain from the shoulder that carried the weight. "I needed you!"

"I was crawling all over you trying to get to her. Don't put this on me, McGee! You're the one that had her." Tony paced in front of him. "God, I don't even want to call down. I know she's dead. 5 stories. No other outcome."

"God, I'm sorry." McGee's chest heaved.

"Sorry doesn't mean anything. Do you think your sorry helps this girl's family? Was it your fear of heights? How often do you work out, McGee? You gotta' step away from the videogames from time to time, you know."

"Stop it! You knew I couldn't hold her forever, but all you did was fumble around until it was too late!"

"I connected with her. I had her. All you had to do is hang on one more second. One second, McGee!"

McGee struggled to his feet. "I did the best I could!"

"Enough!" Gibbs was on the roof and striding toward them.

DiNozzo turned to him. "We could've saved her!"

"Shut up! We don't do this on my team! We don't blame each other!"

"She's dead, right?" Tony ran shaky fingers through his hair.

"She landed on cement, Tony. I headed for the stairs the moment I saw her come over the side."

"We were so close, Boss. So close. Don't know what happened."

McGee headed for DiNozzo. "That wasn't what you said just a minute ago. You knew exactly what happened then. It's my fault, right? I was weak! Say it, Tony!"

DiNozzo stepped back and pointed a finger. "You only had to hold her for one more second. How hard could that be?"

"Did the two of you not hear me? Knock it off!"

DiNozzo turned away from both of them.

Gibbs put a hand on McGee's shoulder and he howled. "Hey Tim, it's okay. You probably dislocated it. Don't move it."

McGee stood there breathing hard, cradling his injured shoulder while Tony rubbed at his face roughly.

Gibbs shook his head. "It happens like this sometimes. You get close, but it's not enough. I know that both of you did everything you could to save her, but today it wasn't enough. When that happens, you don't turn on one another. There's no one to blame. You accept it for what it is, and you process it, and then you move on."

Tony turned to them and nodded. "I apologize, Tim. I really do."

McGee couldn't face him as he murmured. "It wasn't anyone's fault."

"It's going to be a circus down there. DiNozzo, you're going to stay and give a statement. McGee and I will head to the hospital."

…

McGee didn't look up when the team came out of the elevator. He stayed focused on his work. DiNozzo swept in and took a jump shot, dropping a bag into McGee's lap. McGee glared at him.

"Come on, McGoo, we picked up burgers. I got yours just how you like it. No ketchup. Just mustard and pickles."

McGee picked up the bag and put it on the desk. Gibbs walked by and he nodded at him. "Boss, Vance cleared me for the field this morning."

"You feeling ready?"

"Yeah," he said. "I was out three weeks and light duty for two more. I'm ready. Shoulder is feeling good."

"That's all I needed to hear."

Tony hovered. "You finished with the- you know- thing with Dr. Cranston?"

McGee flinched. "Did you?"

"Yeah. Weeks ago."

"Me too. You got a problem with me out in the field?"

Tony threw Ziva a look, and then shook his head. "No, I don't, McGee."

"You don't want to test my arm strength or anything?"

Tony sighed. "No."

"Just checking."

Gibbs looked from McGee to DiNozzo. "Are we still dealing with this nonsense?"

"Hey, I'm perfectly fine," Tony murmured.

McGee sighed. "Sorry, Boss."

"Time to move on. I mean it. It happened and it's over. Both of you need to let it go."

McGee nodded and went back to his work. Ziva watched them for a few moments. "I think we should all go out tonight. We haven't been out as a team in a while. I was thinking we could go to McKinney's for dinner and a couple of beers."

Tony shrugged. "I'm in."

"I don't know, Ziva. I'm sort of up to my ears in paperwork. Maybe another time."

She threw up her hands. "We haven't been out together in awhile. Come on. I think it might be good for us."

McGee caught Gibbs' imperceptible nod. "Yeah, okay. Let's go out."

Tony grabbed his coat. "Boss?"

Gibbs shook his head. "This is for the three of you. Go out and have a good time."

…..

Ziva leaned over her beer at the crowded bar. "Are you sleeping better?"

McGee shrugged. "I take a pill. It helps."

She nodded toward Tony who was at the bar chatting up a pretty bartender. "He's struggling too."

"That's hard to believe. He seems like the same old Tony."

"Oh yes. But you know him. All that bravado is an act. In fact, I am not at all sure he has finished with Dr. Cranston. I heard him on the phone with her yesterday."

He frowned. "Why can't he just be honest? He's always trying to make me look bad."

"No, he's not. He's…complicated. You know that. He doesn't want to hurt you."

"Do you have any idea of all that tricks and hazing I've put up with over the years?"

She squeezed his hand. "I have been there for most of it, and you have always been patient, and you learned how to handle him. You've always understood his heart, sometimes before the rest of us did."

"Not any more," he said softly. "I'm trying but I just don't feel it anymore."

"You both did the best you could."

"Yeah, but you weren't on that roof. You don't know what happened."

"He told me. He told me everything."

"I doubt that."

"He's really ashamed of what he said to you and he knows you feel the same."

McGee studied her for a moment. "Why don't I believe that? Why can't I let it go?"

"I don't know."

"Hey guys! Round is on me." Tony put a trio of beers on the table.

Ziva withdrew her hand and smiled. "If we aren't careful, we're going to need cabs home."

"Autopsy gremlin is coming to get us in an hour."

"What did you bribe Jimmy with?" McGee murmured.

"Nothing. He just offered to help. So what were you all talking about?"

Ziva shrugged. "Just checking in."

"Come on. I saw the handholding and the conspiratorial whispers. Out with it."

McGee stiffened. "It was a private conversation."

"About me, no doubt," Tony said as he took a long draw off his beer.

"Don't push, Tony," Ziva said in a low voice.

Tony wagged a finger at him. "I got some advice for you, McGee: one friend to another. Get over it already."

McGee stared at him. "Get over it. Thanks. Appreciate it. You're telling me this as a friend?"

"Yeah, I am."

"When have we ever been friends?"

Tony screwed up his face. "What?"

"I mean, I have been your target, your patsy, your probie, and at best, your wingman. When have you treated me like a friend?"

Tony shook his head at Ziva. "Can you believe this?"

McGee leaned forward. "You don't have friends, Tony. You have an occasional evening with a frat brother, but only the ones that refuse to mature like you, but other than that who at NCIS is your friend? Abby, because she's friends with everyone. Ziva, because she's your partner. Jimmy, because he thinks anyone with a gun is cool."

"This is what you really think, McGee?"

He looked away. "I'm going home now."

"Answer me, McGee. Be a man."

Tim grabbed his coat. "You're the only one who truly knows if you've ever been my friend."

Tony started after him, but Ziva grabbed his arm. "Don't make it worse."

"He won't let it go, Ziva."

She pulled him back into his chair. "Neither of you will. You act like it didn't happen, but I watch you. You're not sleeping and you're still seeing Cranston. It doesn't help to pretend that you're doing terrific and he's the one that needs the help."

"It's no one's business."

She snorted. "This from you. The king of prying into other people's lives."

"I'm tired of it. I have spent five weeks trying to show him that I didn't mean what I said. He's like a brick wall. And all I hear from the rest of you is to be patient. How long do I have to put up with him treating me like crap?"

"He's family, Tony. You'll hang in there because he's worth it."

…..

He sat through the final credits of Bridge on the River Kwai. He usually didn't have the patience for all that especially from a director as grand as David Lean. They seemed to go on for half an hour. Then he looked up at the clock. 2:20 a.m. He sighed and got up, unbuttoning his shirt and shucking his pants. He grabbed a t-shirt, pair of pajama bottoms, and headed into the bathroom. A few minutes later, he was standing beside his bed. He liked the size. It just contained him and it felt safe.

Anxiety tugged at his gut. The exhaustion was there, but sleep had become unpredictable for him in recent weeks. There was no way to know if that poor little girl's desperate eyes would find him and steal his peace.

He turned away from the bed and shuffled back into the living room. Jezebel was one of Bette Davis' early movies, and he loved her fire. She spent most of the movies as the villain until the end when she's the only one strong enough to save Henry Fonda from yellow fever. There were times when he could relate to her. He picked it out of the queue and sat down to watch.

…

Sweat ran down his brow as McGee struggled to hold on.

"Come on, McGee. You can do it."

He looked down and saw it was Tony's hand he was grasping. "I still see her eyes every night. Don't you?"

"You just have to let go."

"Can't!" He grit his teeth. "If I only hang on longer she'll live."

"Let go, Tim."

"No! I have to be stronger!"

"If you hold on too long, you'll lose all of us."

"What?"

Then suddenly, Tony's hand was gone. McGee reached through the blackness but there was nothing. "Tony!" He screamed as he flew upright in bed.

…..

"Hey Abbs! Got those DNA matches for me."

"Hey Tony! Of course, I do. I stayed late last night just for you." Pigtails swinging, she walked over to her desk and grabbed a file for him. "So I heard that you guys went out last night. You haven't done that in forever. I bet you had a good time, right? Tell me that the old team dynamic is back."

"Sure, if the old team dynamic was McGee treating me like crap. Yeah, we're back to normal."

"No!" She pushed the file in his arms. "No more fighting. Come on. What's wrong with you guys?"

Tony shrugged. "I'm doing everything I can. It's McGee. He just won't let up on me."

She shook her head. "That's not my Timmy. He's like the most forgiving person I know."

"Right. He's an angel."

"He's had your six for ten years, Tony. Don't let something like this screw that up. Tim is one of the best people in the world."

Tony shook his head. "If you really knew, Abby. You wouldn't think he was such a saint."

She frowned. "What does that mean?"

He sighed. "I was never going to tell you this, but two years ago, he was sweet on Shannon from Accounting. You remember her. Only she wouldn't give him the time of day because she knew how much the two of you hang out. She was sure that McGee was in love with you."

"I don't remember them dating."

"Well, McGee really wanted a chance with her so he convinced her to go out to coffee with him, and then he told her that he'd never had any feelings for you ever. That's what he was willing to do to get a date with her."

Abby blinked. "He wouldn't do that."

"I swear to God. He told me the whole thing himself. So your hero isn't perfect, Abby."

Tears poked at the corners of her eyes and her chin trembled. "Why would he do that?"

Tony closed his eyes. "You're upset. I didn't mean to upset you. I just wanted to tell you that he wasn't perfect…I'm sorry, Abbs."

She rubbed at her eyes angrily.

"Abbs, there's more to the story and I think it might—"

"Out! I don't want to hear it! Just get out!" She pushed him out and hit the button to close the door on him.

…

He leaned over her desk. "Ziva, you have to go down and fix it for me."

"I'm not getting in the middle of this, Tony."

"I hurt her feelings. Don't do it for me. Do it for her."

"DiNozzo!"

"Crap," he said looking around.

Ziva shook her head. "It's too late now."

McGee came into the bullpen, eyes blazing. "You got a problem with me, not her!"

"I swear to God, Tim. It just came out. I didn't even get a chance to tell her the rest of it. I'm going to fix this—"

He wasn't prepared for it because he never imagined it would happen. McGee was a lefty and he came at him hard, catching him under the chin with a solid punch. Tony fell backward across his desk and toppled over his chair.

For a moment, no one moved except for the heads of fellow agents peaking over their dividers. McGee stood there, his arm still extended while Ziva hustled past him and helped Tony sit up. He groaned and cradled his jaw.

McGee's hands trembled as he massaged his fist while DiNozzo gently probed his jaw. Then McGee looked him in the eye, "The problem is between you and I, Tony. You involved her and hurt her feelings. You didn't tell her that after I did that, I went to you for advice because I felt so bad. You didn't tell her that I met with Shannon the next day to tell her that I lied to her about Abby."

Footsteps sounded from the stairs to MTAC, but McGee didn't move. "I was your friend, Tony. I didn't always understand it, but it was true. What happened to us?"

Vance's security detail got there, steps ahead of Vance and Gibbs. McGee turned to them. "I punched him. There are about a dozen witnesses here. He made no effort to strike back."

Higgins, Vance's Chief of Security, nodded. "Going to have to handcuff you, Tim."

"Yeah," he said as he turned and put his hands behind his back.

Higgins cuffed him gently and looked at Vance. "Where do you want him?"

Vance looked around the room. "There is a no tolerance policy for violence in the workplace. Take him down to lockup."

"Leon." Gibbs' voice was tight.

"I'm not going to play favorites. I still got to finish my meeting with SecNav. Let him cool off." Vance turned and headed back upstairs.

Gibbs glared at Tony and Ziva. "He's going to be lucky if he has a job at the end of this. Are you satisfied?"

"Boss, I—"

Gibbs waved him away. "I don't want to hear it. The two of you are doing to destroy this team, and when you do that, you'll regret it for the rest of your lives.

….

His cell smelled strongly of bleach. Only on a military installation would there be a cell that smelled like anything other than sweat and urine. He sat on the metal cot and stared down at his swollen knuckles. He wasn't a hitter. This was probably the 4th or 5th time in his life that he'd ever thrown a punch. All the previous ones had been at suspects who'd refused to cooperate.

His heart beat hard in his chest as he kept flashing on the hurt in Tony's eyes that had little to do with the pain in his jaw. He was glad to be in this cell away from all of them as he felt incapable of articulating a rationale for behavior like this.

He heard the door to the cells open and he winced, praying it was only a faceless MP.

"'Ello! 'Ello!" Ducky announced as he was led to McGee's cell.

"Ducky, please," McGee said. "I don't want to talk."

Ducky motioned to the guard who opened the cell. "Let's get a look at that hand."

McGee pulled away. "I just want to be alone."

He peered over his glasses. "Behave yourself, Timothy. Now, give me your hand."

McGee acquiesced and struggled not to make any sounds while Ducky kneaded his swollen knuckles. "I understand it was an impressive blow. I hear you sent him right over his desk. I would've liked to have seen that."

"Yeah, it was amazing. I like to call it the career-ender."

Ducky gave him back his hand. "I'm not sure it's that dire."

"It should be."

Ducky regarded him for a moment. "You are about the most miserable chap I know. You've been that way for some time."

"I have my reasons."

"I know."

"You should be with Tony. He's the one that got hurt."

"Already looked at him. He's got a swollen jaw, but he'll survive. Besides, he's with the director right now."

McGee swallowed. "Where's the boss?"

"He's disappeared."

"I'm sure he's pretty disgusted."

"I have no doubt."

"I don't know what to say to you, Ducky."

"That's okay, my boy, but I'm staying anyway because you need a friend."

….

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: In the future, someone is going to look at this story and get excited because of the review count, and then they're going to click on it and find out that most of it is hype about which character the story favors. Sigh. Just let it be a story. Most of us live stress-filled lives, and fanfiction is our escape- our chance to not worry about bills and jobs and people. That's what it does for me. I find joy in these stories.

If you come to this story with a scorecard about Tim or Tony, you're going to find whatever you want, and you're going to steal energy from yourselves and me. If that's where your head is at, it's just not the right story for you.

I'm not going to disable anything. I love most of the anonymous reviews I get. As for the rest, it's on you. If you want to flame, flame. If you want to troll, troll. If you want to follow me to NFA to lurk on threads, lurk away. I let it bother me for a few days, but the truth is that I'm too tough to care all that much.

It is my sincere hope that you will stay if you enjoy what you read, and that you move on if you don't. A lot of people have been very kind to me in the last few days with their words, and it has meant a lot to me. So, let's just focus on the damn story, shall we? Sheila

**Letting Go**

Chapter 2

"Let me see if I understand this correctly. He punched your lights out in the squad room in front of everyone and you don't want to press charges." Vance looked down at DiNozzo, his arms folded across his chest.

"Tha's right." The right side of his jaw had swollen and he talked with a bit of lisp.

"Doesn't send a good message to the rest of the troops. People will either think that they can start hauling off on one another or that the rules are different for Gibbs' team."

"I don't care what they think. You know that McGee doesn't deserve this."

Vance sat down and watched him carefully. "Explain it to me."

"It's about the girl we couldn't save."

"She had a name, DiNozzo. Evie James."

"We both handled it badly when we lost her. He and I are struggling to regain trust. I screwed that up again today. He reacted."

"So, this was your fault. You deserved to be punched."

"He's not himself, Director. I'm not myself. We keep getting it wrong with one another. I don't know what else to say."

"And I'm supposed to just let a couple of loose cannons like you back out in the field?"

"We just need a little more time."

"Alright, you're dismissed."

Tony got up. At the door, he turned. "What are you going to do, Sir?"

"I don't have a damn clue, DiNozzo. Now, get out of here so I can think."

….

She took the coffee he gave her. "Look, I'm sorry about what happened today, but you know I can't tell you what happens in those sessions."

"I don't need specifics, Doc. I just need to know enough so I can help them."

Rachel Cranston sighed. "They're both still struggling with sleep."

"I see that on their faces every day. They try to hide it. They even claim that they aren't seeing you anymore."

"Well, you know they're lying. You would've gotten a report from me if I was done with either one of them."

Gibbs chuckled. "I don't even think of it as a lie. It's like they're competing. They're trying to convince each other that it's behind them."

She nodded. "Makes sense."

"What's really going on?"

"Have you ever heard of transference?"

Gibbs shrugged. "It's when you put something on someone else."

"Yeah. It's similar to that. They're projecting their emotions onto each other."

"I don't get it."

She sighed. "Let's say I'm feeling really insecure about something, but instead of acknowledging that within myself, I project it onto everything you say to me. I tell myself that you're the one accusing me of these things."

"What are they projecting onto one another?"

"In the heat of the moment, Tony told Tim he should've held on. Afterward, he apologized, but Tim can't hear that because he was already entertaining the same doubts about himself. He's the one worried that he's not strong enough, not Tony. He struggles with it every day. Yet, he projects those feelings onto Tony. Whatever Tony says feels like an indictment of that belief."

"And Tony?"

"Family is very important because he had so little of it. Only child. Lost his mother when he was young. Raised primarily in boarding schools while his father disappointed him time and again with his absences. He struggles at getting close because no one ever sticks around…except you. And then McGee and Ziva and Abby and Ducky and Jimmy. You're his family. McGee is very important to him and he's learned to trust him implicitly. But now McGee is pulling away, acting indifferent. It feels like a betrayal for Tony. A childhood of abandonment relived."

"What do we do?"

"Gibbs, I don't think words are going to do it. They need to learn how to trust one another again. When that happens, they can help each other. They experienced something very traumatic, and they need support, but the only one who understands what happened to Tony is Tim and vice versa."

He let out a breath. "I put those two together right now, and bones will get broken."

"I don't know, Gibbs. I can't fix it for them and you can't either. They have to see something in each other that helps them re-connect."

…

Gibbs walked into Vance's office at 6:30 a.m. "You screwed with my beauty sleep, Leon. What do you got?"

Vance picked up a piece of paper. "McGee's resignation. It was on my desk when I came in. He got released last night late. Must've come straight here to write it out for me."

"Give it to me."

Vance shrugged. "I don't know. It would solve a lot of problems. We don't want to lose him, but I could accept it as a resignation from your team and put him elsewhere. I don't have the right spot now, but we could stick him in Cybercrimes until something comes up."

"Give me the damn letter."

Vance smirked as he handed it to him. "Just thought I'd float an idea is all."

Gibbs tore it up and threw it in the trash. Vance rolled his eyes. "Technically, that was not yours to destroy."

"He can always write another one, but he's not going to do that until I have a chance to talk to him."

"Gibbs, it's going to look like favoritism if I just let you deal with this. People are going to talk."

"Let 'em. If they complain, tell them that the rules will get bent for them too when their solve rate is as good as mine."

"You are, as always, a delight."

"As are you, Leon. As are you," he mumbled as he walked to the door.

"Hold on, Cowboy. We got another problem."

"What?"

"Donny Watkins."

Gibbs nodded. "It did my heart good that they picked up that animal in Ohio."

Vance gestured to the plasma screen that showed a bald man with a big, red, meaty face and a big swastika tattoo on his forehead. "He sure is ugly."

"They got him on rape charges, right?"

"Yeah, but if we bring him back here and put him under federal jurisdiction, we can add hate crimes and tie him to maybe 3 rapes and 2 murders in the D.C. area. All African American women. All with crude swastikas carved on their chest. I know how you feel when a Marine goes savage like this."

"What do you need from me?"

"We're having a little turf war. FBI wants him too, but two of the assaults and one of the murders happened on Navy soil so we have first dibs."

"Well, put him on a plane, Leon. My people can help make the cases."

"We got a problem. We can't find an airline that will take him. Can you imagine boarding a plane and looking at that nightmare?"

He shrugged. "That's a U.S. Marshall's problem."

"Not anymore. Through a series of byzantine of backroom maneuvers, the U.S. Marshalls won't touch him unless he goes to the FBI. Someone owed someone a favor."

"What do you need?"

"A couple of seasoned agents who can fly to Cleveland, rent a car, pick up Watkins, and drive him back here."

A smile slowly spread on Gibbs' face. "I have just the pair."

…

"He won't answer his phone and I went to his apartment and he wasn't there, and I know he wasn't because I have a key."

"Abby, I'm sure he's fine," Ziva said as she watched Abby pace her lab frantically.

"I can't believe Tony told me only half the story."

"Well, he said he tried to tell you the rest, but you were too upset."

"Doesn't matter! They both have to stop being mean to each other. What if Vance fires Timmy or puts him in prison?"

"Well, he's not going to put him in prison because Tony didn't press charges."

"He could fire him."

Ziva sighed. "He could."

"I would be miserable without McGee. You have no idea."

Ziva took her hand. "We're going to think positive thoughts, okay?"

Tony walked in, carrying a bouquet of black roses. "Hey."

Abby narrowed her eyes. "I'm so mad at you."

"Yeah, I screwed up."

"Come here."

He walked up and handed her the roses. She brushed them aside and touched his jaw. "Timmy can really throw a punch, can't he?"

"Well, you know I was the one who taught him how to fight."

She poked at the swelling and he grimaced. Then she leaned in and hugged him fiercely. "He shouldn't have done that, and I'll give him a piece of my mind, but you kind of deserved it, you know."

"If you say so."

"Where is he? He's not at home."

"Actually, I was hoping you knew. I was parked at his place all night. I saw you stop by around 11."

"Stalker!" Abby said as she gave him a Gibbs slap.

"Oww!" He winced. "The back of my head is connected to my jaw, Abby. Basic anatomy."

"GPS his phone," Ziva said.

"I tried an hour ago. He turned it off."

"Don't bother. He didn't turn it off, but he did a thing so you can't trace it. Don't ask me what. I just work here," Gibbs said as he walked in. "Luckily, McGee knows the rules. He picked up when I called."

"Where is he?" Abby said.

"Trying to avoid all of you. I'm going to go meet with him."

"Is he suspended?" Ziva asked.

"Nope. He resigned."

"No!" Abby stomped her foot.

"I'm going to fix it, Abbs." Gibbs turned to Tony and grinned. "He got you good."

"I'm glad you like it, Boss," Tony said tightly.

"Well, I guess he's little stronger than you thought."

"Boss!"

"Listen up, Apollo Creed. This team works because we each bring something unique to the table. We're not messing with that formula because you and McGee have hurt feelings. I've stayed out of it up to now, but clearly a little micromanaging is in order."

"Seriously?" Tony gave him a look.

"You ready to give up on him?"

"No."

Gibbs nodded. "Doc Cranston says he needs you most of all."

"Not going to work. We're like oil and water right now."

"It's always been that way with the two of you. The geek and the frat boy. It should've never worked, but it has for a long time and we need it back."

The sore side of his jaw twitched. "Boss, you're aware that you made a movie reference by calling me Apollo Creed?"

Gibbs looked over his shoulder. "I wasn't always a dinosaur, DiNozzo. Let's go."

….

McGee was sitting on the front steps of Gibbs' house, and Gibbs had to smile. It didn't matter that it was unlocked and he'd been told to go in. McGee would always be too formal to just walk in to another person's house.

He stood up when Gibbs got out of the car, and then he saw Tony get out of the car and he looked down at the floor. Gibbs walked past him and opened the door. "Come on, both of you."

He gestured to the living room and then disappeared into the kitchen. McGee sat down but said nothing. Tony settled into the couch. "Tim, look at me. You did some pretty good work here."

McGee looked up. "You could've pressed charges."

"I didn't want to."

He winced as he studied him. "How does your jaw feel?"

"Like I got hit by a professional boxer. Impressive work."

"You taught me to walk into the punch."

"You really going to quit?"

McGee shrugged. "You really want to work with the guy who clocked you?"

"It wouldn't be the first time," DiNozzo murmured.

"I don't know. It doesn't feel like it used to."

"Right," Tony glared. "So, it makes sense to just turn and run."

"I'm not running. Just looking at the big picture."

"Please! You're taking the coward's way out."

McGee was on his feet. "What did you say to me!"

Tony looked at him. "Going to hit me again?"

"That's enough!" Gibbs was in the doorway with a trio of beers. "Sit down, McGee. The two of you have done enough talking. It's like watching pit bulls communicate. It's my turn."

He handed each of them a beer and sat down on the couch next to Tony. He shook his head. "I should've seen it coming. Neither one of you have ever learned how to handle failure."

"Boss-"

"Shut up! I mean it," he growled as he took a draw off his longneck. He turned to McGee. "I tore up your resignation."

"You can't do that, Boss."

"So write another one. You're good at writing."

He worried his hands. "I went too far yesterday."

"You sure as hell did and if you ever do it again, I'm done with you. But in this case, there were circumstances, McGee. The two of you have been off your game since she fell off that roof."

"Hard to forget it," Tony said softly.

"I know. I remember each and every person I couldn't save. Still see their faces at night."

McGee blew out air. "That's not very comforting."

Gibbs looked at him. "The difference is that I understand that I did everything I could. There's where you're all screwed up. You did everything you could and she died anyway. It just happens."

"Wish I could feel it," Tony said.

"You know he's strong enough. He pulled you up on that parking garage 6-7 years ago, and you are a helluva' lot bigger than that girl. I know you remember that."

Tony nodded.

"And you know that Tony did the best he could to talk her down."

"Yeah, he had her convinced. There was no doubt of that," McGee said.

"I talked to the doc and she thinks you're projecting feelings onto one another."

"Huh?"

Gibbs scowled. "I don't know how she said it. We basically concluded that you two are a couple of idiots that need to stop blaming yourselves. You do that, and you'll stop blaming each other."

McGee cocked his head. "She called us idiots?"

"No, she used long psychology words, but it meant the same thing."

"I'm not sure I can do this, Boss."

Gibbs fixed his eyes on McGee. "Tim, we have magic on this team, and because of that, we can do things that other teams can't. You're part of that magic. You leave and everything changes. I know I can't keep you forever, but I can try to keep you from leaving things half-finished. It's still your decision, but I want the two of you to work one last assignment together. I need you to know for sure. You can do that for me, can't you?"

McGee stared down at his hands for a moment and then he looked up. "Tony?"

He shrugged. "Hey, I'm not one trying to run away."

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "Maybe, it would be best if the two of you worked this assignment without talking to one another."

…

"We'll take turns driving."

"No way," Tony said as he eased onto the onramp. In the distance, the sun was only just venturing over the horizon. "You'll turn a 12 hour drive into 15."

"Drop me off at the airport. I'll take a flight and meet you there."

Tony ignored him. McGee sighed and looked out the passenger window. "We're not going to survive 12 hours in the car together."

"When did you start hating me so much? What is before or after Evie?"

McGee shook his head. "I never said I hated you."

"Well, I know you don't like me."

"I'm angry, okay? You were there. I was there. We blamed each other. I can't get it out of my head."

Tony turned his head, eyes blazing. "You think I can? You think I don't see her face when I close my eyes?"

"Really? You've spent the last six weeks acted like you're just fine. I'm the one with the problem, remember?"

Tony rubbed at his bruised jaw. "You know I'm not good at…that."

"Being vulnerable, Tony. You're not good at being vulnerable."

"It's not my thing."

"Somehow, treating me like I'm the only one with the problem seems to be your thing though."

"You're bitter, McGee. You're angry all the time."

"No, Tony, I'm tired. That's what I am- exhausted. That's why I want to leave."

"You're giving up."

"The admiral once told me that when you bang your head on the same door over and over and it never opens, it's time to go find a new door. My head hurts."

"Evie's going to follow you, Tim."

McGee sighed. "Maybe I deserve that."

"You don't. I don't either. We need to let go, let her rest."

"I think it might be too late for that."

Tony shook his head sharply. "I have to concentrate on the road. Got to navigate rush hour traffic for the next three hours. Read the damn file on Watkins or something."

"Reading in the car makes me sick to my stomach," he murmured.

"Of course it does!"

…

"Hey! Wake up!"

McGee lurched forward, breathing hard. "What!"

"You were having a nightmare."

"No, I wasn't." McGee shook his head, blinking.

"Yeah, you were." Tony glanced over.

McGee rubbed his face and looked out the window. Lush green hills were dotted with trees and dairy cows. "Where are we?"

"West Virginia."

"What time is it?"

"Noon."

"We need to stop for gas."

"We did half an hour ago."

He shook his head. "No way I slept through that."

"You were snoring the whole time. I haven't enjoyed spending time with you this much in years."

"I'll drive. You sleep."

"I'm not tired, McGee."

"You afraid I'll hear your nightmare?"

DiNozzo glared at him. "Shut up."

"Let's stop at a drive through or something."

"There's a nice little café coming up in the next few miles. They have the best barbeque. I've been there before."

"What? Are we on vacation? Let's not drag this out any longer than we have to."

"Are you driving, McGee? 'Cause if you're not, you'll shut up and eat where I stop. We're going to Dixie's, and that's final. I need a chance to stretch my legs."

Tim shook his head and looked away.

"How often do you have the nightmares?"

"Really? No way, Tony. For once, you can be the vulnerable one."

Tony stared ahead for a few moments. Finally, he sighed. "I have nightmares more nights than I don't. I stay up late. Somehow, I think that's going to help. It doesn't."

"I take a pill."

"I know. I thought about that. Sort of worried I'll sleep so deep I won't wake up."

McGee shook his head. "It doesn't work like that. Leaves me a bit drowsy, but I think it helps."

"I still see Cranston."

"I know."

"Does she help you?"

"I don't know. It's hard to tell. We talk but I still feel angry."

"Tim, I don't think we could've done more."

McGee studied him. "Do you mean that?"

"Does it help?"

"If you really believe it, it does."

He sighed. "I'm working on it. I know we both tried so hard. I know that. I know she slipped. I know you almost went over the edge with her."

"But…"

"Maybe I didn't…I took too long talking her down. I go over it in my head and I think about what I could've said to get her down faster. I should've-"

"Stop! You can't do this! We don't get a redo, Tony. You did the best you could."

"We left her on the ledge too long."

"No! It was only a minute, maybe two. Damn it! This is no way to heal."

"Well, we could get drunk and beat each other to a pulp. You owe me that."

McGee sighed and shook his head. "Just stop."

"Perfect! Dixie's is right up here. Their babyback ribs are amazing!"

"Not hungry anymore."

Tony turned into the roadside café. "Eat. Don't eat. I don't really care."

He got out of the car and slammed the door. McGee dropped his head against the back of the seat and sighed.

…..

Tony walked out of the café 45 minutes later carrying a white paper bag. The car was empty, but he spotted McGee on his laptop at a broken down picnic table next to the café. He walked over and dropped the bag on the table. "You have to eat. I'm not stopping when you finally decide you're hungry."

Tim opened the bag and pulled out a fried chicken sandwich and a container. "Mac and cheese?"

"Your favorite."

McGee looked up at him. "I can't keep up. One minute you want to fight. The next, you're bringing me my favorite foods."

"I'm a wild ride, McGee."

McGee pulled out a plastic fork and dug into the macaroni and cheese.

"Come on, McGee. We gotta' go."

He shook his head. "Sit down."

"McGee, we're losing time!"

"Please!"

DiNozzo sat on top of the table. "What?"

"Watkins is bad news."

"I know. I read his file last night."

"He's got a network. I checked online. There are chatrooms loaded with Neo-Nazi nutjobs."

"Say that three times really fast. Neo-Nazi nutjobs!"

"This is serious, Tony. There are a lot of whackos that want to see him break out of jail."

"I am aware of this, McGee. That is why we are driving there, not flying. The trunk is loaded with everything I can think of. No one is going to know our route or when we're leaving. We're tight on this."

Tim finished the mac and cheese and put the container down. "I just think we need to put our differences aside for right now. We gotta' be sharp."

"We are sharp. We're so sharp we can't be next to each other without making the other one bleed."

"Please Tony!"

"Fighting with you is not as fun for as one might imagine."

"So let's stop. No more. I'm tired. You're tired. Let's not do this."

Tony's mouth twitched. "Okay."

"I'm driving now. I suspect you got almost no sleep last night."

Tony dropped the keys in McGee's lap. "Please exceed the speed limit every once in a while, will ya?"

"Yeah. I'll lead foot it all the way."

DiNozzo put up a hand and then stopped himself.

McGee blinked. "Were you going to hit me?"

"Naw. Was going to ruffle your hair, but I knew you'd take it wrong."

"Ruffle my hair?"

Tony shrugged. "Impulsive."

McGee stood up and headed for the car. "You're not the only one who misses what we had."

Tony stayed on the table and watched as his lanky partner walked away. He opened his mouth to say something, but he couldn't give shape to it. There was nothing left to do but to hop off the table and follow him.

….

Watkins sat in the interrogation room and stared at the two-way mirror. They'd spent three days throwing everything at him, but he hadn't budged. No tears. No begging. No explaining. Nothing. He was going to show them that his soul was deader than the devil's.

He knew they were watching him. Discussing him. Cursing him. It was all good. As long as he was at the center of their worlds, it didn't matter if he was on the streets or in chains. He lived for their reactions to him. Being in custody brought him that much closer to their angst.

A deputy walked into the room, and for the first time, Watkins tensed. He swallowed and kept his eyes trained on the mirror, praying that they didn't notice. They couldn't scare him into a reaction, but this was different. The deputy brought hope into the room, and he had to make sure that the men behind the mirror didn't see it.

The deputy grabbed him roughly by the shoulder and pointed a granola bar at his mouth. Watkins was chained to the table so he could only eat when he was fed. He would've refused, but he knew now that he would need his energy. He bit into the bar and chewed. The deputy replaced it with a bottle of water, feeding it so fast the water poured down his neck.

Watkins tolerated all of it. The entrance of this deputy had changed everything for him. He had a chance to be more than just a martyr now. He now had a chance to return to his way of life. He just had to sit and be patient. More than anything, he wanted to mouth the word, "Brother", to the deputy, but the risk was too great. The deputy continued to treat him harshly, pushing the granola into his mouth so he was forced to gobble. Still, Watkins could feel a great affection for the man. He was risking everything for this. He was demonstrating his commitment to white supremacy and the god given rights of the white race.

…..


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks to all of you from the bottom of my heart for letting this story be what it is meant to be. It's been a joy to explore the different corners of their friendship. Things, of course, are going to get crazy because I can't help myself. I hope you still like it. Let me know your thoughts. Sheila

Letting Go

Chapter 3

McGee leaned against the wall of the Sheriff's department and watched DiNozzo and the small town sheriff battle in the man's office. Tony was in full outrage, pacing and pointing, and the sheriff was responding by screaming at him red-faced from behind his desk.

His phone rang and he picked it up. "Hey Boss, thanks for getting back to me…Well, uh, the sheriff's digging his heels in. Wants Watkins for one more night. Says he's waiting on labs from some prior cases. Anything to hold off on losing jurisdiction…Oh yeah. I imagine he's getting some pressure from the FBI. They're sulking in his outer office…Oh, Tony is working on it, but I think he's about two insults away from a night in a cell…Oops! Hold on, Boss! We have escalation!"

Tony was about three inches from the sheriff's face, shouting. McGee burst through the door and both men jumped back. He gestured sharply at DiNozzo and Tony came out reluctantly. He started to complain, but McGee just handed him the phone. Tony stalked off, growling curt answers at Gibbs.

McGee looked at the sheriff. "Navy wants him back. We'll wait the night, but if he's not in our custody by 7 a.m., we'll have a U.S. Attorney and JAG on your doorstep. We have the better case. Tomorrow, after the labs come back, we'll still have the better case. Every hour you make us wait puts this transfer in greater jeopardy."

The middle aged man with a gut his belt couldn't contain snorted. "I got cases to solve just like you do."

"He's a monster, and he needs to be in a place where he can be charged with greater crimes. That's the bottom line, Sheriff."

"You got a softer touch than your partner. I like that."

McGee glared at him. "You're stalling, and it puts us all at risk."

"We'll put you up at the local Holiday Inn. They got a nice pool and a hot tub. I think you'll like it real well."

"Well, that makes up for everything, Sheriff."

Tony came striding back. "We're leaving here with him at 7 a.m. Nobody gets to know that. We want him dressed, fed, and ready before we get here. The transfer is going to take less than fifteen minutes. Word gets out that he left with NCIS, and we'll know where that started. You don't want to be on the receiving end of the smack down that's going to happen if this doesn't go well. Trust me."

Tony turned and stalked out of the office. McGee looked at the sheriff. "I think his approach is very effective, don't you?"

…..

Tony sat on the bed barking into the hotel phone. "No, I said the whole menu. We're ordering everything you make. Very hungry up here…Oh yes, you're charging it all to the Fulton County Sheriff's Department…Yeah, no problem. He's completely cool with it. Urged us to eat as much as we can. Just send it up as you make it. Thank you very much." He slammed the phone down.

"Feeling better now?"

"We're ordering every pay-per-view movie on the TV."

McGee groaned. "Please don't make me watch porn with you."

"Yeah. No." He screwed up his face. "We'll order up everything else."

"The sheriff says they have a stellar hot tub on premises."

Tony glared at him. "You think this is funny."

"I do not. Just happen to think we could both use a little sleep before we head back, so staying is not such a bad thing."

"I slept all afternoon in the car."

"No. You tossed and you turned, and then you woke up every fifteen minutes to check the speedometer and scowl at me."

"You going to accuse me of having nightmares?"

"I don't have a clue as to what you dreamt about."

Tony lay back on the bed, his arms folded behind his head, and stared at the ceiling. "Remember that time when we had to spend two weeks in West Virginia on that double murder?"

McGee looked up from his laptop. "Rundown motel. One restaurant in town. Gibbs and Ziva left you and I after two days and went back to D.C. with the evidence while we canvassed the entire town."

"We were so bored until we found that roadhouse. I turned you into a pool shark."

McGee smiled softly. "It's all a matter of geometry."

"No, McFast Eddie, you had the touch. We fleeced so many people I thought they were going to run us out of town."

"We had that talk there. The one about how you grew up with a dad who had no expectations and I grew up with a dad who had nothing but expectations. We wondered how we could end up on the same team with that many differences."

Tony shook his head. "Could two people have been raised more differently?"

"Maybe not."

"Yeah, we had a good time."

McGee snorted. "Sure, for a murder investigation."

"You got drunk that one night and climbed the roof of the roadhouse to show me how Spiderman climbs, and you were so wasted you forgot you were afraid of heights until I reminded you."

"Yeah, that was a great move, Tony. I freaked out and almost fell."

The humor left Tony's eyes. "Like Evie."

McGee looked away. "No. It wasn't like Evie. I was fifteen feet off the ground tops. I wasn't a teen-age girl with her whole life ahead of her. I was a drunken idiot who would've deserved a broken leg if I'd have landed on my ass."

"I'm sorry."

McGee caught his eye. "For what?

"Everything."

"Yeah, me too."

"Are we fixed now?"

Tim studied him for a long minute. "I don't think so."

"Too much to expect, I suppose."

McGee nodded and returned his attention to his laptop.

Tony sat up and reached for the remote. "What do you want to watch first?"

McGee shrugged. "You pick. I want to see if I can zero in on the chatter involving Watkins."

"McGee."

"Yeah."

"I never had a better friend than you."

McGee stared down at his computer. "I know."

"That's got to be worth something."

He nodded. "It's worth a lot, Tony. Just wish we weren't so hard on each other right now. It's not healthy for either of us."

"Yeah, you're right. You have a lot of common sense, McGee."

…..

"Please, don't move! I'm coming! I promise it will be okay. I promise! Don't move, Honey. Don't move!" Tony sat up, breathing like a bull. The room was dark save the red number display on the alarm. He leaned forward to settle himself.

"You okay?"

Tony startled. "Forgot where I was."

The bed next to him shifted as Tim leaned up on his elbow. "You were brilliant with her. You don't remember that, but I do. If she had lived, you would've known that. You would've told the story a hundred times to anyone who would've listened and I would've let you. Her foot slipped, Tony. It was never about what you said or didn't say."

"Really?"

"I was there, wasn't I?"

"She broke my heart, McGee. I only knew her for a couple of minutes, but she broke my heart."

"It wasn't just the falling. She was sad and scared. Cornered. It was in her eyes. I remember that feeling when I was her age. I felt trapped too sometimes. Bullies at school…and at home. I remembered thinking that I couldn't wait until she got off the ledge 'cause I was going to say something to her about it. I was going to tell her that it was going to be okay. I wanted her to know that I understood."

Tony smiled into the darkness. "You're a sweet man, McGee."

McGee lay down again. "Thanks…I think."

"No, I mean it. It's one of my favorite things about you."

"Go to sleep already."

Tony turned on his side and closed his eyes. Sleep came more quickly to him than it had in weeks.

…..

"Man, you're ugly. I saw pictures, but they don't do you justice. You are butt ugly. I bet your mama had to feed you with a slingshot when you were a baby." DiNozzo circled Watkins as McGee did a painstaking search of his person. "Now hold still, Donny, while my partner checks you out. You don't want to piss him off. See my jaw. He did that. True story."

"We already searched him before you got here," growled the sheriff who leaned against the wall, arms folded.

Tony turned his head. "But he wasn't McGeed. No one does a search like my partner here. I want to thank you for your hospitality, Sheriff."

"I know you ordered the whole menu at the Holiday Inn. Gonna' send the bill to your Navy bosses."

Tony smiled. "You do that."

McGee straightened up. "There's nothing on him."

"Could've told you that."

McGee gave Watkins one last look. He was wearing prison orange and cuffed in front at both his wrists and ankles. "Has he eaten?"

Wasn't hungry."

Tim looked at Tony. "I'm not going to be the one feeding him."

Tony smirked. "I forgot my slingshot. Besides, I got this sore jaw where I was hit by …"

McGee rolled his eyes. "Sheriff, I'm going to need two bottles of water and a couple of granola bars."

The sheriff nodded and left. Tony walked up to Watkins' face. "I know we're not going to have any kind of problems, Donny. I don't like problems and I don't like you. You're a beast and in my world, beasts get put down. Unfortunately, I don't get to make that decision unless you give me reason. Are you going to give me a reason, Donny?"

Watkins stared back at him with ice blue eyes, but not a muscle moved on his face.

"You're thinking about spitting at me, aren't ya? Do it, Donny. See how I respond."

The two men, both seasoned hunters, stared into each other's eyes. McGee had seen this happen many times. DiNozzo made it clear in moments like this that he could be very bit as cold as they were, and it was always very effective. There was a time when McGee tried to follow this path, but he was a different man with different skills. Becoming like Tony was not his destiny. He gave them another moment, and then he touched Tony's arm. "Time to go."

"Okay. You go get the car."

After McGee left, DiNozzo pointed at Watkins. "We're going to have fun today, you and I. We can find an 80's station. Sing some old favorites. Listen to this." DiNozzo screwed up his face. "_I wanna' know what love is! I want you to show me! I wanna' feel what love is! I know you can show me! _That was good, right?"

….

McGee stepped out the back of the sheriff's office and stopped short when he saw a deputy emerge from behind their car. "What are you doing back there?"

The tall deputy grinned. "You must be one of those federal guys."

"I just asked you what you were doing behind the car."

"Sorry. Dropped my phone. It slid under your sedan." The man held up his phone.

"Your name is?"

"I'm Deputy Darrell Tuttle. I work part time for the sheriff. He needed extra help with Watkins being in custody and all."

McGee's eyes settled on his badge number and then he nodded. "Okay. Nice meeting you, Deputy."

After the man went back inside, McGee kneeled behind the sedan. He checked the tires, but the pressure felt fine. He lay down on the concrete and shined a flashlight under the carriage of the vehicle, but there was no sign of an explosive. Finally, he got up and brushed himself off. He hit a number on his phone. "Hey Abbs, I got a got a name and a badge number for you to do a trace on…I'm sure it's nothing…Tony and I are getting on the road right now…We're doing okay together. We'll be back late tonight…Tell Gibbs we'll call him every two hours. Bye."

The door behind him opened and Tony came out with Watkins in tow. "Road trip, Probie! Woo-hoo!"

McGee rolled his eyes as he helped Tony settle Watkins into the back of the car.

…..

"I'm feeling good." Tony smiled at the windshield.

"Why?" McGee glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.

"I don't know. I just feel better. How about you?"

McGee looked back at Watkins who sat in the middle of the back seat secured tightly. He glared at McGee but said nothing. "I don't like talking in front of him."

"Doesn't bother me none. Donnie here would undoubtedly benefit from some civil discourse."

McGee sighed. "I guess I feel better too."

"We can beat this, McGee."

McGee glanced back at Watkins again. "Maybe we can. I'd like to think so anyway."

"Well, I'm feeling very confident about it." DiNozzo looked at McGee. "What are you doing on your laptop? It makes you carsick."

"I got a weird feeling."

"You don't get to have gut feelings. That's Gibbs' territory and mine. What's wrong?"

"There was something about that deputy. I just wish Abby would call me back with the information I asked her to get. And by the way, I can have gut feelings too."

Tony smiled. "Of course you can. See. There's no conflict. I accept your position with respect and grace."

"I give this new attitude a shelf life of about 45 minutes."

"Don't be such a gloomy McGus."

A smile tugged at the edge of McGee's mouth, but he stayed hunched over his laptop.

"I saw that smile. Don't fight it. We're moving toward the light, you and I."

A snort sounded from the backseat and Tony glared into his rearview mirror. "What do you know about anything, Donnie?"

"You sound like a couple of homos."

"We've been waiting three hours to hear your sweet voice, and it turns out you're a bigot. Who would've thought?"

McGee grinned at Tony. "We had so few clues."

"Assholes."

Tony laughed. "Another zinger from Mr. Donnie "Witty" Watkins!"

McGee turned. "I think I might write some of these down, Donnie. You know, for when I need a good comeback."

"Good one, McTim."

McGee's phone rang and Tony rolled his eyes. "Ziva?"

McGee looked at the display and nodded.

"Don't answer it."

"I gotta." McGee put the phone to his ear. "Hey Ziva…no, we are still in Ohio…No one is following us…Yes, we have engaged evasive maneuvers…We do not have time to double back again. Do you want us to be on the road forever? As it is we have to stop for gas in an hour…No, you can't talk to Tony…Because he doesn't need you to go over basic surveillance protocol for tails with him again…Last time you called, he told me he would throw the phone out the window and I need this phone so…We're going to be okay. I promise…Appreciate your concern…Yes, we are getting along…We'll talk about it more when we get back...Gotta go, Ziva. Seriously. I can't do all the things you want us to do if I'm on the phone with you…Yeah, see you soon."

McGee looked at Tony. "She misses us."

"Yeah." Tony grinned.

….

Ziva was frowning at her phone when Gibbs came back with coffees. He handed one to her. "You called them again, didn't you?"

"They are too nonchalant, too confident."

"They are good agents, and you're distracting them with all your fussing."

"I'm not fussing."

"You are."

She took a sip of her coffee. "They sound like they're getting along."

"Is that right?" He settled into his chair.

"You knew this would work, didn't you?"

Gibbs leaned back in his chair. "We look at them as two very different men, but the truth is that they both came to the team as young men who were looking for direction. They've spent much the last ten years growing up together. They're brothers in every meaningful sense of the word."

…

"Please Tony, don't make me!"

Tony eased the nozzle off the pump. "One day, you'll be a senior agent and you can torture your probie to your heart's content. In the meantime, you will always have to be the one to take the prisoner to the potty."

Tim rolled his eyes and leaned in the back seat to pull Watkins out. The man had to shuffle in his leg irons, and McGee kept his hand on his back as they made their way around the back of the gas station.

Tony looked around. The gas station was rundown. There were only two pumps on the graveled surface rife with potholes filled with water from the latest rain. The store was tiny, and he doubted they'd be able to get more than chips, candy bars, and bottled water there. The pump was so old he had to pay inside, and he was digging into his wallet for his card when a black SUV pulled off the highway. Tony watched it roll to a stop, one hand on his gun. In the opposite direction, an old Chevy truck pulled in as well. He waited for the truck to stop and then he looked back at the SUV. His breath caught when he realized he couldn't spot the occupants. He stepped away from the sedan and unholstered his gun.

"Hey!"

He swung around and there was a man in an old flannel shirt standing there with a fold out map. The man dropped his map. "I was just going to ask for directions, man."

Tony relaxed. "Sorry. Federal agent."

"Don't mean no harm."

"It's okay." Tony relaxed his arm and straightened up. He turned to look back at the Chevy when he felt the explosion in his gut. It lifted him and threw him against the side of the car. He slid down the side of the car and landed on the pavement, looking around wildly. His right hand squeezed air and he realized that his gun was gone. He saw it on the ground in front of him and started crawling toward it.

The man with the flannel got there first and kicked it away. He smiled down at DiNozzo. "You didn't see that coming, did you?"

Tony rolled onto his back on the pavement and tried to orient himself. His hand went to his right side and then he lifted it. His gut seized when he saw the blood.

"Harlen, search him. Get his cell phone and any other weapons he might have. Doug and Kent, we still got the other one to find. Figure he took Donnie into the store or the bathroom. We don't got much time. Hurry!"

Tony stared up at the sky and screamed. "McGee!"

…..

McGee heard that first shot and knew everything had gone south. Tony screaming his name left him breathless. He pushed Watkins down in the restroom, and came outside, gun drawn. His breathing sounded like the ocean roaring in his chest, and he hugged the wall at the back of the station. Then he heard two pops inside the station. He grabbed his phone and hit the first return number on the screen. "Ziva, we're under fire. Gas station. Somewhere along highway 35 near West Virginia. Tony's down. I'm going to try and hold until help comes. You're my only call. GPS my location."

He stuffed the phone back in his shirt without waiting for a response.

…..

Ziva stood up. "Gibbs!"

He guessed much of the story from her face. "Where?"

"Under fire. Highway 35 near the West Virginia border. Tony's down." Her eyes were wide.

"Listen up!" Gibbs had the attention of the room. "Agents down during prisoner transport in Ohio!" He started pointing. "You get on the phone with Ohio State patrol! You get a GPS fix on the phones for DiNozzo and McGee! You get the FBI on the phone! You find Vance! You need to get a chopper fueled and on the pad! Everything gets funneled through MTAC!"

He motioned to Ziva and they raced for the stairs.

….

McGee caught sight of two men crouched behind a truck. "Federal Agents! Put down your weapon with your hands up!"

Shots came his direction and he plastered his body against the wall. Watkins was banging on the bathroom door from the inside but McGee ignored him. He swung out for another look and gunfire erupted. He returned fire and fell back. Breathing in short bursts, he shouted, "Tony! Tony, are you alright?"

An unfamiliar voice sounded. "Your partner's down! Hole in his gut! You want to say good-bye to him?!"

"Let's negotiate!"

"No time, Fed! You want him to live? Bring out Donnie!"

"No can do!" McGee's voice cracked.

"I got my foot on his chest and my gun trained on his face! Say good-bye to him, Fed!"

"No!" McGee screamed. "I'm bringing him out!"

…..

Tony stared up at the flannel shirt while his hands worked to cover the wound on his side. The man was screaming about killing him, but panic didn't register for him. His only concern was McGee. Probie would think too hard. He would imagine a happy ending. Very dangerous thing to do under the current circumstances, but probie didn't really understand evil. It would always be his weakness. He tried yelling for him, but his voice wasn't strong, and the flannel shirt put too much pressure on his chest with his boot.

…..

McGee pushed Watkins out in front of him. He'd undone the leg irons but kept the handcuffs in place. He dug his gun into Watkins' neck. "You step away from my partner now and I'll let him go!"

"Let go of Donnie!"

"Step away from my partner and get into your cars! I'll let Watkins go!"

The flannel shirt stepped away from DiNozzo and put his hands up. "It's all good, Fed!"

"Get in your vehicles and I'll let him go!"

There was a scream to his right, and a man came out of the station dragging a young woman by her hair. "Hey Carl, look what I found in the back! Let's bring her along! She's perfect for Donnie!"

The man in the flannel shirt turned back to McGee. "The game has changed, my friend! You let go of Donnie and you drop your weapon!"

McGee blinked at the girl. She was young and African American. He'd read enough of Watkins' file to know what would happen to her. He squinted and thought she bore a resemblance to Evie. Where the hell were the sirens?

"Drop your weapon, Fed!"

McGee looked at the flannel shirt. "I drop my weapon when you let her go! You let her run!"

Her captor scowled. "She's for Donnie!"

"Let her go, Harlen, but keep a gun trained on her. If the fed doesn't drop his weapon, I want you to shoot her!"

…

"No probie. No!" Tony's cries were weak, and he rolled his head back and forth on the pavement. "Don't give up your weapon! Never give up your weapon! It's a rule! Please probie! You don't need to die, Tim! You don't need to die!"

…

McGee couldn't hear Tony. His attention was on the man with the girl. The man let her go and she scrambled in the gravel, but then she gained her footing and ran off into the woods. The man keep his gun trained on her while McGee set down his gun and put his hands up. Donnie turned around and kneed him in the gut.

McGee fell to his knees, and Watkins kicked him on the side of his head. McGee fell onto his side, groaning. Carl came running over. "We don't have time for this, Donnie. Let me shoot him! We gotta get out of here."

Donnie shook his head. "Load 'em up. Both of them. I got plans for them."

Two of the men pulled McGee to his feet and handcuffed him. Then they marched him to the SUV. He caught sight of Tony on the ground lying in his blood. "Tony!"

DiNozzo rolled his head in his direction. "No probie. Never give up your weapon. No."

They pushed him in the back of the SUV, covered him with a blanket, and slammed the door closed.

…..

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Sorry for the wait. Next two weeks are finals. Very busy time, but I think I understand the rest of the story. Just need to get it on the screen. So hoping you're enjoying it. Our boys are finally on the same page, but things are pretty desperate. Hoping to hear from you. Sheila

Letting Go

Chapter 4

They'd handcuffed Tony and laid him in the back of the truck under a tarp as they drove. He tried to calculate time and distance, but when pain got bad, his world went black and he never knew how long these periods lasted. The bleeding had slowed. One of the men had thrown a towel over his side, and Tony used it to staunch the flow. It wasn't kindness they were offering. Tony knew that they were keeping him alive for Donnie. The meaning of his life had been reduced to that of a toy for a sadist. If circumstances were different, Tony would provoke a quicker demise. He was a realist in these matters, but it wasn't only his life that was at issue here. The fact that he didn't have the strength to sit up was only second to the fact that he was still responsible for his probie. He knew why McGee had given up the gun. He was still paralyzed by Evie, and Tony also knew he probably would've done the same. The pain of living with another innocent death was too much for either man to contemplate.

The truck hit another bump and Tony groaned. It was clear that the vehicles were off the highway now. They were headed somewhere remote, somewhere Donnie and his gang would have time to think and to play. Tony knew that the length of his life could be measured in hours now. There would be no time to grieve that; all of his remained energy had to be invested in the probie's wellbeing.

…..

Satellite capability had become precise, and they all stared at the large screen as the gas station came into view in real time. Watching from above, it all looked quiet as if no one was there at all. The only clue was a sedan parked next to a pump with the front door wide open. Then the satellite zoomed in closer, and they watched as the first Ohio Highway Patrol vehicles converged on the station. Officers piled out, guns drawn.

Gibbs watched with a practiced eye as they fanned out. They moved out in two groups. One group headed for the station and the other for the sedan. He held his breath as they surrounded the car, worried that the bodies of his men lay inside, but they backed away quickly and focused their energies on a large stain spread out on the pavement. Gibbs knew that this was DiNozzo's blood.

Officers came out of the station yelling, and Gibbs knew that they found death. His gut seized as he waited. MTAC wasn't in communication with them. They would have to learn the truth from monitoring patrol scanners.

Then there was an extraordinary sight as a young woman came stumbling into view. She was clearly distraught and officers surrounded her as she crumpled onto the pavement. He heard a gasp and turned to see Abby and Ducky had come into MTAC. There was no time for hugs or comforting words, and he turned his attention back to the screen.

More vehicles appeared, and as so often happens, the crime scene became a gathering for frustrated law enforcement milling about. He wanted to yell at them to preserve the integrity of the scene, but it was wasted energy to do it from 400 miles away.

A tech stood up. "Agent Gibbs, I'm monitoring Ohio Highway Patrol scanners. Initial reports state that there is one dead on the scene, and he's been tentatively identified as station owner, Foster Jones. His daughter, Felicity, is reporting that she was briefly held hostage, but released when a federal agent gave up his weapon. She states she ran into a forested area and stayed until she heard sirens. That's all they know at this time."

"They've been taken," Ziva said softly.

Gibbs closed his eyes. McGee had given up his gun. This was no surprise. It would've been tempting under any circumstances, but here it was yet another indication that he was still a hostage to Evie's memory. He turned to Ziva and stabbed a finger. "We're getting 'em back, and then all of us are doing two weeks of hostage training at Quantico. All of us! Hear me?"

She nodded sharply, her mouth tight and her eyes still on the screen.

"Gibbs!"

He turned to find Vance at the top of the stairs.

"There's a chopper on the pad. I'll keep point here. I got Fornell on the phone. He's meeting you there. You'll destroy any other FBI liaison they send. I have the head of Ohio Bureau Criminal Investigation on the line right now. Take who you need and get out of here." He turned and left.

Gibbs grabbed Ziva's elbow and startled her out of her reverie. "Let's go."

"Gibbs!"

He turned to Abby and shook his head. "I can't talk now."

"McGee sent me the name of that deputy, Darrell Tuttle. It has to be an alias. I can't find background on him. I've been trying to get the sheriff's department to send me his fingerprints, but they've been stalling."

"That's about to end, Abbs. Tell Vance. I want this hump in custody by the time I get there."

"Jethro."

He stopped and looked at Ducky.

"You may need me."

Gibbs rubbed his mouth. "Okay Duck. Grab your bag now. I'm not waiting."

….

McGee kept calm with counting. In the time he'd been stuffed under a dirty blanket, the SUV had made three left turns and four right ones. Three times they had stopped long enough to suggest traffic lights. This small number told him that they hadn't entered a city. He also focused on what he could hear. Sounds were muffled under the blanket, but twice he could detect the blare of a train going by, and once he felt them driving over train tracks. None of this would be of any use. It was clear they were driving in country, but that was no surprise. A group like this would need an isolated location. The counting was an exercise more than anything else. It kept him from thinking of the reality of the situation. His partner was shot and possibly dead, he'd given up his gun, and they were now in the hands of brutal men with nothing to lose.

He kept seeing Gibbs' face. The boss was undoubtedly shaking his head over this one. There was nothing he could've done to prevent Tony from being shot, but he could've stalled. They might've shot her, but she was an asset, and there was a better chance they would've played it out. He could've bought time.

He cursed. The recriminations would have to wait for later. Right now, he had to find a way to endure. He'd known adversity since he was old enough to walk so he was well trained in this area. The only clear objective in his head right now was that Tony needed him and he would do what it took to have his partner's six.

….

When they pulled him out of the back of the SUV, it was late afternoon. He figured they'd been driving for almost four hours. Once his feet hit the ground, someone pushed him hard and he landed on his knees. He felt a boot in his gut and he doubled over in pain. Another boot landed in his side again and again. Instinctively, he curled up into a ball. Then one caught him under his chin and his world went dark.

….

His mouth tasted salty and metallic like the time Stevie Barber had punched him in the mouth when he refused to give him the answers to a quiz. He smacked his mouth to rid it of the taste, and rolled his head to the side and groaned. Then he imagined punching Stevie right under the jaw just liked he'd hit…

"Tim! Tim!"

He opened his eyes but was surprised when only of them would cooperate. He was on the floor of a room. It was dirty and musty, and the only furniture was a couch and an old recliner. There was a face turned in his direction, and he jerked upward, howling as the cuffs pulled him back.

"You okay, Tim?"

"Tony!"

"Shhh! Not so loud."

McGee surveyed his situation the best he could with his head aching at every movement. He was handcuffed to the bottom of an old radiator and couldn't move much. When he did, pain erupted in his torso and thighs.

"Look at me."

McGee squinted at Tony. "What happened?"

"Ah probie, your face is bruised up like a bad piece of fruit. They had a little fun with you."

"My left eye won't open."

"Well, there ain't much to see."

"How bad are you, Tony? I was so worried. I didn't think…"

"I'm alive. I got a hole in my side, but the bleeding has stopped. I'm as weak as kitten though. I don't think I'm going to be able to walk away from this one."

McGee licked his cut lip. "I screwed up bad."

Tony shifted on the old couch. "Yeah, I've been thinking about that. There's no doubt that if I had the strength to get to my feet, my first action would be to wring your neck, but I also know that you would've stood strong if not for that girl."

"She surprised me."

"Yeah. You and me both."

"I'm sorry."

"Sign of weakness, probie. Besides, they would've killed her. That's the kind of men they are. You saved her life."

"Doesn't do us much good."

"That's true enough."

"I think they tracked us. It was that deputy I had a feeling about. He attached a GPS somewhere on the undercarriage, and then they lay back a few miles until we stopped. I think that's what happened."

"Probably so."

McGee yanked at the radiator. "I gotta get this loose."

"Don't make a racket. They're having a little celebration out in the living room. I'm hoping they forget about us for a little while."

McGee tugged again, but got nowhere. "Oh God, Tony. What are we going to do?"

"I'm thinking."

"The flannel shirt has the key to these cuffs. It's in his front pocket."

"Good to know, probie. We'll ask him for it when he comes in."

The doorknob turned and McGee jerked. Donnie walked in wearing jeans and a death metal t-shirt, smelling of cheap whiskey. He dropped into the old recliner. "Hi boys."

Neither of them responded.

"It feels so good to see the two of you of arrogant assholes all trussed up like a couple of game birds waiting to be dropped in the pot."

Tony lifted his head. "What do you want?"

"A few hours ago, you were a real funny guy. What happened?"

Tony glared at him and Donnie smiled. "We've been debating on what to do with the both of you. I want to savor the moment. We made a real clean getaway. That old gas station didn't have video cameras worth shit. So I think the plan tonight is for us to have a nice party, and then tomorrow if either of you is still breathing, I think I'm going to do a little artwork on ya'. Something nice for the feds to look at when they find you."

McGee shuddered and looked away. Tony attempted to rise up on his elbow. "I'm your problem, Donnie. McGee here was decent to you. I was the one that pushed you."

"Naw. You don't look like a girl. He does. And we don't have any girls at this party."

"That's not happening."

"You can tell yourself whatever you want, DiNozzo. You control nothing. I'm going to do what I want."

"Watkins, don't be a fool. We're both worth money to you. Resources for the cause. You know that, but what you don't know is that you've taken Navy royalty. McGee's dad is an admiral. He's worth millions."

"Really?"

"Google him for God's sake. Admiral John McGee. He's a practical man and a devoted father. He'll do whatever it takes."

"That true, McGee?"

Tim lifted his head, his eyes blazing. "My dad has resources. He'll pay you and then he'll point a ballistic missile at your ass and blow you to bits."

Watkins threw back his head and laughed. "You just became a lot more interesting, McGee."

McGee yanked at his cuffs, breathing fast and shallow. "You think you can break me? You piece of shit animal!"

"McGee!"

"You want to dance, boy?" Watkins stood.

McGee swung a leg at him.

"Stop it! Stop it now!" Tony tried to drag himself upward.

"Come on, guys!" Watkins yelled.

"No!" Tony tumbled off the couch and landed hard. He tried to crawl to McGee, but Watkins rolled him away.

Men crowded in and Watkins threw a key at one of them. He unlocked McGee's cuffs and arms dragged him from the room. DiNozzo slammed his cuffed fists into the floor. "McGee!"

Donnie turned and stared at DiNozzo. "That look in your eye- you're scared, frustrated, powerless. I love it. This kind of shit fuels me."

…..

Gibbs stood in front of the sedan and stared. They'd taken out DiNozzo first. McGee must have taken Watkins to the restroom or he would've been caught in the same trap. They brought DiNozzo down and then they went looking for McGee and Watkins. Shell casings told the story of a short gun battle. McGee must've engaged after he spoke to Ziva on the phone. He didn't hide. The kid went at 'em hard.

He turned to where Ziva and Ducky sat on the steps of the station with the shaken Felicity Jones. Her story came out in short bursts between periods of sobbing. She had been stocking shelves when a man came in, pointed at a gun at her father's face, and fired. She'd ducked behind shelves and would've gone unnoticed if not for the man's search for food. He'd grabbed her by the hair and pulled her outside.

She remembered McGee holding Watkins in front of him. She remembered rough men with guns and two vehicles. Her descriptions were cursory at best. The surveillance cameras at the station hadn't worked in years. She remembered McGee putting down his gun so she could run. She started weeping uncontrollably at this point, and Ziva took her in her arms and looked up at Gibbs.

Gibbs didn't know Ohio, but he knew that they were working with a blank slate. They could be half an hour away or five hours. His best chance was with Watkins' contacts.

"Jethro!"

He turned and saw Fornell coming toward him.

"I need resources."

"Name it."

"We have to find his people. Friends, family, followers, and we gotta do it fast."

"Yeah. Our Cleveland and Cincinnati offices are mobilized. We'll organize teams, bang down doors."

"I knew him by reputation only, Tobias. I didn't even read the file. Who is he? What is he going to do to my people?"

"You know enough to know that conversation isn't worth having. DiNozzo and McGee are strong and scrappy. Hell, DiNozzo can think on his feet better than anyone I know."

"Yeah."

"You think there's a deputy up in Fulton County that might be involved?"

"McGee caught him under the car before they started out. Abby can't find background on him."

"Sounds promising."

"The sheriff up there is full of bluster. Doesn't want to release Tuttle to us. Knows he screwed up by holding onto Watkins too long. I got half a mind to go up there and put him in the hospital."

"Tempting, but let's avoid that for now."

"I want him down here. This is ground zero and I'm not leaving. I don't care about that sheriff and his little fiefdom. I want that deputy put on a 'copter and brought to me now. Can you make that happen?"

"Technically, Watkins is part of a terrorist organization. I'm still have homeland security clearance. I can make it happen."

"Now!"

"Right." Fornell started off and then yelled over his shoulder. "You're welcome by the way."

….

The sounds in the living room were muffled, but Tony could make out taunts and laughter. They weren't going to rape him. Tony could tell from the insults that it was all about terrifying him with the possibility of it. Tony felt an inordinate amount of relief in his gut. Still, he could make out enough of the action to know that his probie was being humiliated and beaten.

Tony felt the screams in his gut. There were so very few people in this world that he truly loved, and when he gave that of himself, it's meaning went beyond the emotional. Tony's role in this world was that of protector, and there was nothing more frustrating than to be denied that right. Hours passed and the voices faded, but worse, he stopped hearing sounds from McGee. Finally, his frustration overcame him and he turned his face into the dirty carpet and sobbed his loss.

…

They'd taken over an interrogation room in the Athens County Sheriff's office. Tuttle was handcuffed and sitting alone in the room staring at the two-way mirror. Fornell entered the Observation room with three coffees. He pushed one of them into Ziva's hands and the other into Ducky's. She looked at Fornell. "Does he know something?"

"He protested the whole way down from Fulton County."

"Give me ten minutes with him. That's all I ask."

Fornell raised an eyebrow. "I'd love to see you do it too. My money is that Gibbs can take him in 8 minutes, and we'll still have a prosecutable case out of it."

"My way is more satisfying."

"I have no doubt." Fornell sipped his coffee. "Look. Here comes the master."

Gibbs came into the room and sat down across from Tuttle. He said nothing. He just sat there with a coffee, sipping and staring.

Tuttle started to fidget. "I didn't do anything, man. Nobody will listen."

Gibbs put his coffee down and cocked his head. "Killing federal officers is a capital crime. Ohio is a death penalty state. Lethal injection. When they strap you down on the gurney, I'm going to be there. My eyes are the last ones you're going to see before your life ends."

Tuttle tugged at his cuffs. "I didn't do anything!"

"You conspired with a Neo-Nazi group to free a dangerous criminal and kidnap my agents. It's a slamdunk. You're a dead man walking. I promise that you will be convicted as a co-conspirator in the murder of my agents."

"You're not listening to me." The man was trembling.

"'Cause you're not telling me anything. Your plan is sit there and act innocent and waste my time. In the meantime, my agents are already dead or they're being tortured. I won't forget the time you're wasting. Nor will the U.S. Attorney. We'll remember that you could've made a difference and you choose not to."

"If I knew something-"

Gibbs slammed the table so hard that even Fornell jumped from behind the glass. "They are dead or dying, Tuttle. We have your fingerprints on the tracking device under their car. You believed them when they said that they'd get rid of the evidence, didn't you?"

Gibbs leaned forward and Tuttle shuddered. "Don't you say one more unhelpful word! Do you understand? You say something useful now or you say nothing. If you stay quiet, I understand that you stand with the serial murders that have my agents. Under those circumstances, all of my work will be devoted to your demise."

The man's face was red and his cheeks were wet. "They paid me $5000. I didn't know what it was for."

"Good start, Darrell, but we know you knew Donnie before he was arrested."

"I went to some meetings. I was mad about things. There's a lot of crime and the system is broken. I met Donnie and Carl a couple of months before he was arrested. Real strong men. Sure of themselves."

"This is good, Darrell. Where are they now?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I'm not inner circle. They really did pay me $5000. I knew they were going to free Donnie, but they said that they weren't going to hurt the agents. They promised me. I told them I wasn't interested in any federal crimes. I got limits."

"Where are they, Darrell? I can't save you until you help me."

"I don't know. I wanted to know them better. I wanted to be brothers with them, but it was hard to get close. I met with Carl last week. He gave me money and instructions."

"That doesn't help me find him."

Tuttle leaned toward Gibbs. "He had questions about my sheriff. He wanted to feel out what kind of guy he was. And then he mentioned something. He told me that the sheriff where he lived was just indicted on racketeering charges. I think that might be the sheriff in Morgan County."

Gibbs was on his feet before Tuttle stopped talking. "Tobias, we're going to Morgan County!"

Behind the mirror, Fornell turned to Ziva. "7 minutes and 42 seconds."

She grabbed Ducky's arm. "Come on, Fornell. We need choppers in the air!"

…..

"Tony. Tony. Tony!" DiNozzo moaned as he opened dry, swollen eyes. He could barely make out the face in the darkened room. McGee was face to face with him on the floor. The bruising seemed worse, and he had swastikas and SS symbols markered onto his face and arms.

"McGee." Relief flooded his gut.

McGee's eyes were wet. "I was so scared that you wouldn't wake up when I came back."

"I'm here," Tony whispered.

Then Tim started grimacing and moving his head about, but before Tony could comment, he spit something onto the floor. Tony stared down at the key to the handcuffs. "How?"

McGee laid his head on the floor and looked at Tony. "The flannel shirt carried it. His name is Carl. He put it in his front pocket. Bad idea. It always inches to the top when I do that. When they were dragging me into the house, I saw part of it sticking out of his pocket. I waited until they were real drunk, and then I managed to fall over on top of him. Got lucky. Found it and hid it in my mouth. It's good they haven't given us anything to drink or I would've swallowed it. My mouth's so dry it stuck under my tongue. Bring your hands up to mine."

McGee fumbled with the key for minutes until he got it into Tony's cuffs. The cuff slid open and he waited while Tony turned the key in his cuffs. When they slid open, McGee rolled onto his back, and bit his lip while his cramped muscles painfully stretched.

"Are they all sleeping?"

McGee nodded and rolled his head toward Tony. "They passed out an hour ago. I waited until I was sure."

"Good."

McGee narrowed his eyes. "Can you run?"

Tony chuckled. "Is that a joke?"

"It's okay. We'll get you to the window and then out. I'll carry you."

"You're going without me."

McGee shook his head. "Never."

"Listen to me!" Tony hissed. "You're going for help. It's the only way."

"Not leaving you here. Always have your partner's six. It's a rule."

"Not this time, Tim."

McGee looked away. "Then I stay. We'll fight them together."

Tony put a hand on his arm. "I'm the senior agent and I make the call."

"It's a bad call."

"It's not the Alamo. We don't both have to go down. You're going for help. That help is coming for me. That's your mission."

McGee's chin trembled and he closed his eyes.

"You'll go now, and they'll still be sleeping when you get back with SWAT."

He turned back to him. "You'll die here."

"Don't bet on it, probie."

"Tony…" McGee's breathing was ragged.

He shook his head. "We don't have time for this, Tim. You know I'm right. Please don't fight with me. I don't have the energy."

McGee struggled to his knees. He had to lean against the wall to get to his feet. Tony could fully see the toll the abuse had taken on his probie. McGee surveyed the room and headed for a closet in the corner.

"Don't waste time," Tony hissed.

McGee ignored him and knelt in the opened closet. A few minutes later, he crawled back to Tony with two items. One was a wire coat hanger and the other was an old metal scissors. Tim wrestled with it for a moment and pulled the two blades apart. He gave one to Tony. "Hide it and use it when you need to. Don't make me face Gibbs and the rest of them without you. I can't…please Tony."

DiNozzo nodded, taking the scissors blade and hiding it under his shirt. "Go."

McGee used the wall to pull himself up again and headed for the window.

…..

"Listen to me, Abbs. The land office in Morgan County doesn't open for another three hours. I need you to hack into that system. Find land owned by anyone named Carl…That's all I got. When I have more, you'll know." Gibbs ended the call and turned to Fornell. "There's gotta' be a Carl on one of your Neo-Nazi lists."

"Yeah. German name. There are three. I'm having photos sent. We'll see if the witness from the gas station I.D.s someone. We'll use Tuttle too, but I don't trust him. Chopper is almost ready. We're going up in five." Fornell stalked off with the phone on his ear.

For a moment, Gibbs stood alone, unsure of what else could be done.

"Jethro."

He startled and turned. "Ducky."

"You're doing everything you can."

"Will it be enough?"

"They're good agents and they were trained by the best."

"I sent them out there sure that it was a cake assignment. Just wanted them to spend time together."

"As much as you like to think you can be, you're not omniscient. Plenty of people made mistakes here, but you weren't one of them."

Gibbs saw Fornell waving for them in the distance. "Come on, Duck. We're getting closer."

….

McGee used the coat hanger to jimmy into the truck. Hotwiring it wasn't hard. Tony had taught him the basics years ago. The rest was basic engineering. He didn't start it up right away though. Taking the scissors blade he kept, he limped around to the two other vehicles and stabbed wildly into the back tires of both vehicles. There was no scenario under which he was going to let them get away.

Finally, he jumped into the cab of the pickup. He winced when it roared to life, scared that they were waking inside the house. Still, he knew that there was no turning back, and he spun dirt as he sped out of the driveway.

…

Tony felt a combination of fear and excitement when he heard the truck start up. Probie would be out of danger and that was no small gift. He held his breath and hoped that the sound of the engine wouldn't wake anyone. For a moment he heard nothing, and then there was the sounds of boots on the floor. A moment later, there were shouts and more boots. Then the door swung open and the overhead light came on. Tony blinked up into the wild face of Donnie Watkins.

…

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: It's a long chapter. Full of action. And their troubles aren't solved yet. I really hope you like the story. I love hearing from you. Thanks for supporting the story. Sheila

Letting Go

Chapter 5

"Bastards!" Donnie was breathing hard, his eyes red and unfocused. It was clear that he was still quite drunk. He paced back and forth in front of DiNozzo. "We gonna hunt him. He isn't going to get far in that old truck. He doesn't know the roads. Doesn't know the county. We're going to pull him out of the cab and kick him to death. Then I'm going to carve some new art right into his forehead."

Tony hadn't had time to pretend he was still cuffed, but Watkins was too drunk to notice. To him, Tony was just a man struggling for his last breath, and Tony wondered how close to the truth that really was.

Watkins was advancing on DiNozzo when a shout rang out from the yard. "That bastard! That skinny little fed bitch! He slashed our tires! Hurry! We gotta change these now before he sounds the damn alarm!"

Watkins stopped when he heard this, and ran out of the room. Tony lay back and stared at the ceiling. For the first time in 24 hours, he allowed himself the hint of a smile.

…..

McGee had no notion where he was. The county roads had numbers but didn't point to cities, and he had no idea what part of Ohio they were even in. A single light outside a farmhouse caught his eye, and he swung the old truck wildly into the farmyard. He jumped out and ran to the door, pounding on it. Lights erupted in the house and a window opened, but all McGee saw the double barrel of shotgun. "What do you want?"

"I need help! Federal officer. Kidnapped. Escaped. My partner is back there. Need help now!"

"What's your name?"

"Timothy McGee! Federal agent! NC- FBI! Need a phone now!"

"You look a damn mess, son!"

McGee paced the yard in front of the window. "Please! Phone!"

"We heard of two federal agents that were kidnapped on the news, but they weren't FBI."

McGee grabbed his head. "My fault! I didn't think you'd know what NCIS was. I'm a Navy cop."

"That's better. I spent four years aboard the U.S.S. Borealis in the late 60's. I know about you fellers. It was called NIS then."

"Phone!" McGee screamed at the top of his lungs.

"Got it right here. I'll call 911."

"No! Call my boss! 555-546-8872. Agent Gibbs!"

"Calm down, son. Help is coming. Martha, boy is banged up. Grab some towels."

McGee slammed his palm into the side of the truck. "Hurry!"

The old farmer stepped out on the stoop, gun in one hand and phone in the other. "Agent Gibbs. You don't know me, but I got a real hyped up feller here says he's your agent. Says he escaped…Okay." The farmer stretched out the phone. "He says he wants to talk to you."

McGee shook his head. "No! Give him coordinates. Tony is being held at a farm about three miles north! Neo-Nazis!"

The farmer frowned. "The place got a burned out barn?"

"Yeah, I think so. House is rundown."

"That's the old Miller place. Lots of activity going in and out all times of the day and night. I was worried it was a meth lab."

"Tell him how to get there!"

Farmer put the phone to his ear. "Your McGee won't talk to you. He's pretty worked up. Says this Tony feller is being held at the Miller place. I gotta give you directions…" Farmer looked at McGee. "Man says you gotta come to the damn phone!"

McGee limped forward and grabbed the phone. "It's me, Boss. Can't waste time. Gotta get back there…No! Tony needs me!...You're in the air? Good!...Man here is going to give you directions."

He handed the phone back to the farmer and then paced while the farmer gave Gibbs intricate instructions. Then suddenly, McGee lunged forward and grabbed the shotgun out of the man's hand, pushing the old man to the ground.

"Sorry!" He screamed while he ran to the truck and gunned it out of the yard.

….

Gibbs put his hand over the phone and yelled at the pilot. "We're not setting down here! Five miles north of county seat! Farmhouse with burned out barn!" He handed the phone to Fornell. "Tobias, track this farmer's cell! We need units converging on these coordinates!"

"What do you know, Jethro?" Ducky yelled over the roar of the chopper blades.

"McGee got away! Damn fool stole the farmer's shotgun and headed back!"

Ziva nodded. "He would never leave Tony!"

"Wouldn't listen to me!" Gibbs shook his head.

"Rule 2, Gibbs! Never screw over your partner! He had no choice!"

Gibbs stared at her, and Ziva could see a feeling of immense helplessness in his eyes. Ziva bit her lip and looked away.

…

Carl's men might've been drunk, but they were rough hands who'd worked manual labor their whole lives. Changing tires was second nature. Within twenty minutes, they'd pulled the tires off the front of one vehicle and were fitting them on the back of the other. They were going to all pile in the one SUV to get out of there.

Watkins nodded to Carl. "I'm going to go in and finish off the fed."

"We got no time for games, Donnie. Do it fast and get your ass out here. We're leaving in three minutes with or without you."

Watkins gave him a hard look and pointed a finger. "I give you and your group relevance. You're not going anywhere without me."

"Do it quick or I'm going to test that theory." Carl turned back to the men getting tires on the SUV.

…

Tony heard the boots in the house again, and he knew Donnie was coming for him. If the man chose to use a gun, then it was all over. Tony didn't have the strength to even sit up. His only chance was for Donnie to get close.

He rested one hand inside his shirt, and then he started rolling his head back and forth, mumbling. He heard the door to the room open, but he didn't look up at him. He knew Donnie fed on his fear.

"Hey fed! You got any last words?"

Tony mumbled something under his breath, his eyes mere slits. As he hoped, Watkins knelt down to get closer.

"What you saying there, fed?"

Tony struggled to lift his head and mumbled something more. Watkins leaned over until his face was close to DiNozzo's. "Tell me how afraid you are."

Tony raised his hand with the scissor blade behind Watkin's head and plunged it into his upper back with all the energy he still had in him.

Donnie rose up, howling; reaching desperately for the blade in his back. In his panic, he backed into the wall, and the impact sent the blade in deeper. Tony lay back, helpless to do any but watch as the man careened about the room.

…

McGee stopped the truck a couple hundred yards back. The men were too busy to notice him. He could see that they had replaced the tires and were getting ready to run. He watched as they climbed in. He could wait until they left and then drive in, but he knew it would be too late then. They would never have let Tony live this long. In his heart, he already knew it was too late. Killing Tony would take so little effort in his present condition.

It all overwhelmed him and he didn't process the sounds of chopper blades overhead. Losing Evie, the fighting, punching Tony, surrendering his gun, leaving his partner; it all spilled over in him. He turned to the back and pulled out a cushion. Then he cocked the shotgun, put the truck into drive, and floored it.

….

Gibbs pointed to the road as the 'copter circled the house. "Drop it there!"

Ziva grabbed his arm and pointed. An old green truck was speeding down the road straight for the farmyard. She looked into his eyes. "McGee!"

They watched in horror as the truck barreled down on the SUV loaded with men. The SUV attempted to move forward, but the truck leapt into the yard, and ran straight into the front grill of the SUV, caving in the engine.

Gibbs slapped the pilot's shoulder. "Get us down now!"

…

A cushion was no substitute for an airbag, but McGee had managed to center the collision using the right side of the vehicle. In the first seconds, there was nothing but the sound of hissing steam and draining fluids. Glass was everywhere, and when he lifted his arm, he saw shards sticking out of his bicep. He observed this with a studied detachment as he sifted through the carnage for the shotgun. He fished it out, ignoring the pain from the embedded glass and the weird ringing in his ears.

The buckled door opened easily and he slid out onto the ground into a heap. He struggled to pull himself up, gripping the footrest of the cab for leverage. He picked up the shotgun and stepped away from the devastation. His plan was simple. If they moved, he'd shoot them. He leveled the gun and stepped around the SUV. The two in front were slumped over the shattered windshield. There were two in the back trying to get out of their seatbelts. He raised the gun.

There was shouting and a familiar roar, but it didn't seem to be coming from the escaping men. He didn't stop to puzzle on it. He'd shoot them and then think about the incongruence. One man dropped out of the SUV and scrambled to get away. McGee carefully aimed and fired. He hit the man in his upper back and he fell. McGee turned and focused on the other man who was hiding behind the SUV.

The roaring in his ears grew louder and he shook his head to lose himself of the noise. Then he heard his name. Again, it was confusing to hear noises that didn't seem to be coming from the SUV. The voices got louder and it dawned on him to turn. He swung the gun around and saw Gibbs and Ziva running at him.

Gibbs slowed and put an arm up to stop Ziva. Then he pointed her in the direction of the hiding man. "Tim! Tim, it's okay."

McGee stood there, the gun still raised. "I left him, Boss. I left him."

Gibbs advanced slowly. "Put down the gun, Tim. It's okay. You left because you had to. No other way to get help. Put the gun down."

McGee lowered the gun. "He's inside, Boss. They killed him."

Gibbs had his hand on the shotgun and firmly pulled it from his grip. "You did the best you could, Tim. It's okay."

McGee crumpled to the ground, sobbing. A cursory look showed abundant abuse and injuries. Gibbs turned and signaled to Ducky. "Take care of him!"

Fornell's head popped up from the other side of the SUV. "There's no Donnie in here! This crime scene is not secured!"

Gibbs had his gun out and he carefully circled the yard. "Ziva, get McGee and Ducky out of this yard now! Fornell, you got my back?"

"Even on Sundays. Sure you don't want to wait ten minutes. I got people on the way."

Crouched low, Gibbs ignored him and hopped onto the porch. The front door was half open, and he kicked it all the way. He waited for Fornell to jump onto the porch before he leaned in and surveyed the living room. It was filled with cheap furniture and stale smelling, beer cans and whiskey bottles were littered everywhere. He made a sweep of the room and swung his gun in the kitchen. He studied everything with a practiced eye and then turned to shake his head at Fornell. Then he headed down the hallway to the bedrooms. The first one was littered with semi-automatic weapons. Gibbs turned to Fornell and waited until he viewed it. Fornell whistled low and whispered. "ATF is going to have a field day here."

Gibbs continued down the hall and centered his attention on the bedroom with the open door at the end. He turned to Fornell, using his fingers to count, and on three, the two men burst into the room. The sight would stay with Gibbs for the rest of his life. Donnie Watkins lay on his stomach, moaning loudly from the pain of half a scissors buried in his back. The pain literally incapacitated him and left him huffing his agony into the dirty wood floor.

Gibbs' attention, however, was on his agent, eyes wide open, blood staining his entire abdomen. "Tony?"

DiNozzo blinked at Gibbs. "Hey Boss."

Gibbs knelt beside him. "You're going to be okay."

"Could I be that lucky? I keep waiting to die and it just doesn't seem to happen."

He shook his head. "You're like me. Too damn tough to die, DiNozzo."

"Probie?"

"Oh yeah. We got him. Outside of you, he's about the most dangerous man in Ohio right now."

"Heard a crash."

"All McGee. Not sure if I'm gonna give him a medal or a psych eval."

"We're probably going to need both, Boss."

Gibbs cupped a hand on Tony's face gently. He looked up at Fornell who had secured Watkins, and was barking a number of orders into his phone. He settled onto the floor and gently stroked his face. There was nothing left for him to do now but hold DiNozzo until help came.

…..

"Mr. McGee! Stop! Mr. McGee!"

"Tony! Tony!"

Gibbs jerked upright in the chair. He looked around wildly and recognized the clean décor of a waiting room in the University of Ohio hospital in Columbus. Then he caught sight of McGee limping past the waiting area with a bloody arm and the backside of his hospital gown flapping in the wind. "Tony!"

A nurse hurried after him. "Mr. McGee!"

Gibbs trotted out into the hallway. "McGee! Stop!"

McGee halted as if on a leash and turned to Gibbs. He was a mess. His bruising was too tender for them to scrub off the Nazi graffiti, and his whole body was a collage of angry bruises and offensive symbols. The tape from a torn IV dangled from one hand. His eyes seemed glassy and unfocused. "Boss?"

"What are you doing, Tim? You gotta get back in bed."

"Where's Tony?"

"He's in Intensive Care." Gibbs turned to the nurse. "I got this. Can you find Dr. Mallard?"

She nodded and left.

"In my dreams, he's dead."

Gibbs shook his head, moving closer. "He had surgery to remove the bullet, and he's resting now."

"I have to see him. I gotta apologize. I left him."

"You did the right thing, Tim. I know that and he knows that."

McGee shook his head. "I'm so sorry. I know you don't like that, but I can't help it."

"It's okay." Gibbs soothed. "Hey Tim, you're aware that you're walking around with your ass sticking out, right?"

McGee frowned at him and then pulled up the gown. He looked back at Gibbs, horrified. "My underwear is gone. Boss, someone took my underwear. I never go anywhere without my underwear."

"You're in a hospital, Tim. You should be in bed."

McGee's eyes widened. "Is it Carl and Donnie? Are they here? Did they steal my boxers?"

It suddenly dawned on Gibbs that McGee was having some kind of hallucination, and there was no way he was going to tell him that Watkins was in a room two floors away as was the man that McGee shot.

McGee paced and his hand kept tracing an area under his sternum. "First, I gotta see Tony, and then we need to find Watkins and get my underwear back. Then I'm going to kill him. Okay Boss?"

Gibbs was fixated on what McGee was tracing with his finger. The day had been so crazy airlifting both agents to the hospital while he and Fornell secured the scene for the multitude of federal and state agencies that had descended. He'd only gotten to Columbus a couple of hours ago, checked on Tony, and had fallen asleep in the waiting room. There'd been no time to debrief McGee. "What happened, Tim? I haven't had a chance to hear your story."

McGee frowned. "It's a bad story. I put down my weapon, we got kidnapped, things happened, I left Tony behind, pushed a nice farmer and stole his gun, crashed a truck into an SUV, and shot a guy. The story is real messed up."

Gibbs stared at his abdomen. "What did Watkins do to you?"

His lower lip trembled. "I just want to see Tony, Boss."

The door to the ICU opened and Ziva came out. "What's going on?" She was blurry-eyed and had little reaction to her partner's nakedness.

"Can I see Tony, Ziva?"

She touched his bruised face. "He's sleeping right now."

"I want to tell him I'm sorry."

She reached behind him and tied the straps of his gown. Then she shook her head where McGee had pulled out his IV. "He doesn't want to hear any apologies, McGee. You're a hero to him."

She watched as his hand drifted back to a spot under his sternum. Then she gently put her hand on his and pushed it down. "Don't touch it."

He seemed to relax with her there. She looked at Gibbs. "I'm going to take him in and let him look at Tony from behind the glass. We'll be back in a few minutes."

Gibbs was still staring after them when Ducky came up behind him. "Where is he?"

"Ziva is with him. He wanted to see Tony. What's wrong with him, Duck?"

"He's traumatized, has two broken ribs, more contusions than I can count, and a serious concussion."

Gibbs shook his head. "He thinks Donnie stole his underwear."

"He's been restless. His doctor gave him a sedative a couple of hours ago. That's always a risky thing to do with a severe concussion. He's probably delusional. We're going to have to restrain him to keep him from tearing out his IV again."

"Did Watkins carve a swastika in his gut?"

Ducky sighed. "Yes, he did."

"Why didn't I notice?"

"There was so much blood and grime on him. I didn't notice either until we got him undressed here."

"I want to see it."

Ducky shook his head. "You can see the pictures. Timothy is very ashamed. Doesn't want Tony to know. The pen marks you see on him were for other places Watkins was going to cut, but he got too drunk."

Gibbs' face reddened. "I want it off him! How do we get it off him?"

A plastic surgeon is consulting in the morning. There are ways to reduce the scarring."

"That bastard is in this hospital!" he hissed.

"Yes. How satisfying would it be to complete what Tony started?"

"You have no idea."

"Will Timothy face any repercussions for shooting a man in the back?"

Gibbs shook his head. "Are you kidding? He shot a kidnapper. He gets a free pass on that as he does for ramming that SUV. He singlehandedly put four of his kidnappers in the hospital. Agents on the scene were calling him McRambo."

"I would more characterize him this morning as McSuicidal."

Gibbs glared. "He was desperate, not suicidal. There's a difference."

"Right," Ducky said watching him. "Suicide suggests weakness."

"Damn straight! That wasn't weakness we saw from that helicopter."

"Who are you mad at, Jethro?"

Gibbs looked away.

"Come on. It's your old friend here."

"You gave me a pass, Duck, when we both know I shouldn't have sent them on this prisoner transport. They were too distracted by their issue."

"They made mistakes."

Gibbs stabbed his chest. "I made the mistake! I saw the opportunity and thought it was perfect for them. I didn't even read the file. Today, Tobias told me that the FBI had intel on this group and were watching them for weeks. We didn't know that!"

"That was about turf wars, not you."

He shook his head. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Your agents aren't the only ones who need to heal."

The door to the ICU opened and they turned to see Ziva leading McGee out. He was double-gowned now, tied in the front and the back. He shook his head, a worried look on his face. "He doesn't look good, Boss."

"Well, he just had surgery. He needs to rest."

"I want my underwear back."

Ducky stepped forward. "Timothy, you're in a hospital and you need to be in a bed."

McGee's hand crept to his middle again. "Can I just sit here and wait until he wakes up? Can I please get some underwear and just sit here like a person who is waiting for a friend to wake up? No restraints or cuffs or Nazis with hunting knives."

Gibbs could feel the emotion welling up in his youngest agent. "Tim, I'm going to come with you and we're going to use your room as the waiting room. I'm going to make sure you get your boxers back, and there's not going to be any restraints because I'm going to be there."

McGee looked back at ICU. "You should be here. Tony might need protection."

"Ziva is going to stay with Tony and I'm going to stay with you, and everything is going to be okay."

"I'm not sure this is a simple fix, Jethro," Ducky said.

McGee stayed fixated on ICU. "Everyone will be safe?"

Gibbs nodded. "Ziva has orders to shoot to kill."

…

Ziva raised her head as the sunlight warmed her face. It was a beautiful morning but best of all his blue-green eyes were looking up at her. "Hey handsome."

"It's over?"

"Oh yeah. Donnie and crew are in the hospital."

He nodded. "Glad you got there in time."

"Honestly, I'm not sure you and McGee needed us."

"I don't really understand what happened."

"McGee got word to us, and then he stole a gun and came back to get you."

He closed his eyes. "There was a commotion…like an explosion."

"He rammed a truck into their SUV, and then he shot one of them trying to escape. Would've shot the rest too if we hadn't have been there."

Tony shook his head. "Crazy."

"Yeah, we're actually a little worried about that- Ducky especially."

He frowned. "Probie is strong."

She worried her lip for a moment. "You should know that…things happened when you were separated."

His breathing deepened. "What does that mean?"

"Mutilation. A swastika. He doesn't want you to know, but he means so much to you…to both of us. I think you should know."

Tony's face clouded. "When Watkins came for us, Tim provoked him. He knew where the key was…felt like he'd screwed up…like he had something to prove."

"If it hadn't been him, it would've been you. That's not a better choice. As it was, Watkins was too drunk to do more than one."

"He was terrified."

"He survived, Tony. So did you."

Tony looked away. "I want to see him."

She smiled softly. "He wants to see you too."

An alarm sounded and she stood up. Nurses rushed by.

"Is it a patient?" Tony raised his head.

Then a nurse poked her head in. "Agent David, we need your help!"

…..

Gibbs felt the sun on his back and knew it was time to wake. It had been a rough night. McGee alternated nightmares between Evie and Donnie Watkins. At times, he didn't seem lucid, and Gibbs did the best he could to calm him and urge him back to sleep. He hoped the dawn of a new day would bring McGee some peace.

He sat up in the armchair and stretched and noticed the bed was empty. He got up slowly. "McGee? Are you in the john? McGee?"

He pushed open the bathroom and found it empty. Cursing, he stepped out into the hallway looking both ways. There was no one. He rubbed at his mouth and reached for his phone. Just as he was hitting a number, the elevator opened and Fornell was there. "You looking for Edward Scissorhands?"

"McGee?"

Fornell held up the separated blades of a nursing shears. "He showed up outside of ICU to provide protection for DiNozzo. The nurses called security and the Ohio State Police guarding the prisoners got involved. It didn't go well. Let's get you up there."

…

They found McGee sitting in the waiting room outside ICU, hands cuffed behind his back. Ziva was kneeling beside him and Ducky was raging at the agent in charge. He spotted Gibbs and came at him. "He is in an acute stage of PTSD. Can you make them understand that, Jethro?"

Gibbs walked past him. "What happened here?"

"We asked him to give up the blades and he refused," said one of the uniforms.

"Is that all? Tell him how you informed him that Watkins was two floors below us? That was brilliant! He has broken ribs, you goon!" Ducky blurted out.

Gibbs looked at Fornell who shrugged. "They aren't exactly trained for this sort of thing."

"Get the cuffs off!"

One of the uniforms stepped forward. "I get that you D.C. types like to throw your weight around, but you're in Ohio now, and I need a good reason."

Gibbs walked up to his face. "My agent was tortured by your criminals, and still managed to take down the whole gang. He's a hero and he belongs to me. Get the damn handcuffs off!"

Fornell nodded. "Do it. We D.C. types insist."

"We better not have another problem," the uniform said as he uncuffed McGee.

"We'll take it from here." Fornell pushed his colleagues back to the elevators.

McGee looked up at Gibbs. "I don't how I ended up with a scissors. I just remember thinking that Tony needed protection. What was I going to do with a pair of scissors?"

Gibbs looked at Ducky. "I don't know what to do."

Ducky sat next to McGee. "Timothy, look at me. You need some help."

"I know. I'm getting it. I'll listen to whatever you say."

Ducky shook his head. "You need more than we can give."

"The restraints? Please Ducky, I don't think you understand. They kept me cuffed…and I couldn't fight them when…please."

Ducky took his hand. "It's okay. I understand. No restraints but you need to be safe."

"I'll stay right where you can watch me."

"They're not going to let you stay here. Safety concerns."

"I don't know what you're saying." McGee kept one hand over the atrocity on his belly.

Ducky looked up at Gibbs. "I talked to Vance this morning. I want Timothy to spend a few days in the Intensive Inpatient Unit at Bethesda. They're world class when it comes to PTSD."

"Sounds drastic."

"Really? What about the next time he dissociates? If he had come at them with that scissors, they would've shot him. Imagine that. He was lucky that Fornell was with the state police when they came up."

Gibbs shook his head. "I can't believe he got by me. I just need to watch him better."

Ducky slapped the arm of his chair and got up, walking off. They were all silent for a moment. Ziva took Tim's hand. "I think Ducky is right. Only for a few days."

He looked at her. "I don't want to leave. I'll be too worried about Tony."

"He'll be okay and you trust us. We'll keep him safe."

He looked up. "Boss?"

Gibbs seemed at war with the idea but he finally nodded. "I think we need to listen to Ducky. I'll arrange a transport. I'll take you there myself."

"I don't know."

"Look at me Tim. Do you trust me?"

"With everything."

"Then we do this."

….

She slipped back into his room. "Hey, you're still awake."

He smiled softly. "You were gone a long time."

"We had a little trouble, but it's good now, and I even convinced the nurses to let you have a couple extra visitors." She stepped aside to let Gibbs and McGee into the small space.

"Hey guys."

McGee nodded. "You look better today."

Tony looked him over. "I thought they'd clean you up by now. Why do you still have those filthy symbols on your arms and face?"

"My bruises are tender, I guess. They said they didn't want to scrub."

"That's ridiculous. You can't keep looking at those things. It's a reminder." Tony's face reddened.

"It'll come off, Tony."

"Boss!"

Gibbs leaned over. "Calm down. We're taking care of him."

"And I know he carved. I know that, probie!"

McGee looked down.

"You were going to keep that from you, but you can't do that. You and I don't get to have secrets like that."

Gibbs noticed the heart monitor spiking. "Hey! Tony, simmer down. We got it under control."

"Nothing is under control. You should've let Watkins take me. He wanted me! You should've stayed out of it!"

"It was my fault, Tony. I put down my weapon," Tim said in a low voice.

"Don't talk like that! I told you before. It wasn't our fault!"

A nurse stepped in. "This has to stop. He just had surgery. You're going to have to leave now."

"Ziva, take McGee into the waiting room," Gibbs ordered. She herded McGee out quickly.

Gibbs turned to the nurse. "I'll calm him. Promise."

She withdrew reluctantly.

Gibbs sat down beside him. "It's going to be okay, Tony."

"They should've taken me."

"Well, they didn't and you both survived. He was smart to focus in on that key. It's why the two of you are alive right now."

Tony turned away. "I hate this."

"I know. You're not going to like this either. I'm going to have to take him to Bethesda for a few days. He's not handling his stress. He's going to need a few days in a unit."

Tony turned to him. "Are you serious?"

"Don't get worked up. You can't afford it. This is what's best for him."

"You're sure?"

"Absolutely. You have to trust me on this. Ziva and Ducky will stay with you, and then we'll get you home as soon as possible."

"I was hard on him. Bring him back."

Gibbs shook his head. "Neither of you can handle the stress right now. He knows you care."

Tony's eyes watered. "He's my brother."

Gibbs allowed a smile. "I know and I know how you feel about family. He'll be alright."

….

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Enormous apologies for my absence. The last few weeks have kicked my butt with finals, and I wish there was a way to let readers know without wasting a chapter space. I haven't abandoned the story.

This is an interesting chapter. I usually put my peeps through hell and then don't spend a lot of time with recovery, but since this is essentially a character study between my two boys, I've slowed down the pace and spent more time on the healing. I hope it works, and I always love it when I hear from you. Sheila

Letting Go

Chapter 6

Gibbs nodded at two young men seated on a couch as he walked into the PTSD unit at Bethesda. He saw the bulldog tattoo on their biceps, and he knew they were Corps. They were in their 20's, but their eyes were old. They watched him warily, and he wondered if the automatic mistrust of anyone new would be forever burned into their psyches. They had the burnt sienna skin of soldiers newly back from Afghanistan. He heard enough stories of soldiers back from the 'Stan to know that their trauma would be lifelong.

"Boss!"

He turned and saw McGee coming toward him. He hadn't seen him in ten days, and he was pleased to see that the bruises had faded on his pale skin. Still he looked thin in a pair of jeans and t-shirt.

"How you doing, Tim?" Gibbs surprised himself when he pulled his agent in and hugged him.

McGee extricated himself, blinking. "You got to get me out of here, Boss. I'm going stir crazy."

Gibbs noted the hollows under his eyes. "We'll talk about it. It's not up to me, you know."

"Damn straight, Gunny."

They turned to find a large African-American man with salt and pepper hair and a gravelly voice standing there. Gibbs extended a hand. "How you doing, Doc?"

"Fine. How's it going for you, Jethro?"

"Good enough."

"I've heard worse." The man smiled.

"Can we do this now?" McGee asked.

"Your agent here thinks NCIS has ground to a stop in his absence."

"McGee likes to stay busy. He's got a strong work ethic."

"I believe it. Let's go into my office."

"Tim!"

McGee turned to the voice of a young man who was the size of an NFL linebacker with a large tote swung over his shoulder. He stood in a cluster of other patients at the door to the unit.

"I'm going home! Get over here! Gotta' give you a squeeze, McGee!"

McGee gave Gibbs a half smile and trotted over to the group. The overgrown Marine dropped his bag and picked McGee up, twirling him around.

Gibbs chuckled. "He's made friends."

"More than that," Dr. Morgan said. "He's got a presence. He's quiet and serious, but you put him in a group session and he leans forward when someone talks, gives them his full attention. He gives off the air of being the kind of guy who will take your secret to the grave and won't ever judge you for having one. The guys feel really safe around him. They really value what he has to say."

Gibbs nodded. "That's my McGee. Is he ready to go?"

Morgan sighed. "He says so."

Gibbs looked at him. "You're not convinced."

"I'm never convinced. We can't erase the traumas, and some people live with them more deeply than others. The suicide rate on patients is high no matter what we do."

Gibbs shook his head. "That won't happen to him."

"It will be forever etched in his soul."

"It was 20 hours."

"There was the trauma of Evie James before the kidnapping. Plus, you know better than to underestimate the impact of what he faced. I don't care how many hours it was."

"You treated me and I got better…enough to function and even to enjoy life again."

"Jethro, you're the kind of man who can survive anything as long as you feel a sense of purpose- a mission in life. Convince me that he's like you."

"He's very strong, Doc. "

"McGee!" Morgan barked. "Front and center!"

Gibbs smiled. Morgan might be a psychologist now, but he was first and foremost a Marine. McGee wriggled out of his oversized friend's grasp, and started back in their direction.

The kid yelled, "You're the man, McGee!"

McGee was blushing when he reached them. "He's a nice kid. Hope he does well."

"You sat up with him for three nights when he had trouble sleeping."

"Someone had to."

Morgan grinned. "Yeah well, we pay people for that, McGee, but I'm not fussing. You were the one he wanted to talk to. Let's go inside."

The three men sat in leather chairs in his office. Gibbs looked at Morgan. "So what's on the agenda, Doc?"

"Figured it was time for a check in. We've hit a point of diminishing returns. I'd love to keep him a month, but your agent is bored and that can get a little dangerous."

Gibbs cocked his head. "How do you mean?"

"Someone let him play on a computer two days ago. He hacked into the Veterans Administration and settled all of the disability claims for patients on the unit."

Gibbs groaned.

McGee frowned. "It's criminal how long it takes for these guys to get their rightful benefits."

"A truer thing has never been said, but our social workers got a big surprise when all their work had been completed."

"The VA will probably never notice," McGee insisted.

"But if they do, our license will yanked. Can't take that kind of risk. "Had to contact the commissioner today and report the whole sorry thing. Luckily, I had confidentiality on my side and didn't have to report you. I had to tell him that you were mentally defective."

"Well, I am, aren't I?" McGee retorted.

"Your psyche is bruised, McGee, not broken. You're going to get better."

"Doc, if it's a matter of hijinks, I'll ride herd. Threats have always been effective on McGee. He should stay as long as you say."

"Boss!"

Gibbs glared. "I don't want to hear it, Tim! You've been through a lot. We're going to do this thing right."

Morgan chuckled. "I appreciate it, Jethro, but we like to take a less punitive approach here. Besides, I think he might do just as well outpatient."

McGee relaxed. "I'm thinking the same."

Morgan narrowed his eyes. "Talk about the restlessness, Tim. What makes it so hard to be here?"

He looked down for a moment as he thought. "I don't want to feel sick anymore. I don't want to feel caged. I want to be left alone and I want to work."

"Good! I like the authenticity of your response, McGee. Honesty is what we need. Talk about DiNozzo. You think about him a lot."

He looked at Gibbs. "I miss him…and I worry about him. The road trip was a good thing in a lot of ways. We were getting somewhere. We were talking about things. If it wasn't for Watkins, I think we would've come home stronger than ever."

"I should never have sent the two of you after him."

"Somebody had to go, Boss. We didn't know how complicated it was going to get. If you had just sent us on a trip with no meaning, neither one of us would've done it."

"Jethro, don't go there. The fact that you're so steeped in guilt shows me that your agents aren't the only ones who have to do some work."

Gibbs shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

McGee looked at him. "Ziva said that Tony is coming home soon. Morgan let me talk to her yesterday."

"He's coming home today."

McGee gripped the arms of his chair. "This is another reason I need to get out of here. He's going to need help. Takes awhile to recover from a bullet wound."

"He's going to get all the care he needs. We're setting him up at Ducky's. He's taking a couple of weeks off to play nurse for him."

"Yeah, but you don't understand, Boss. He's going to need his electronics set up. Ducky is not prepared for him. Tony's going to need his movies. He's going to need surround sound, streaming, cable, blue ray, wifi. You have no idea what needs to be done to cover his multi-media needs."

Gibbs smiled. "Of course. What was I thinking?"

Morgan nodded. "A good way for you to help and stay busy."

McGee stood. "So, we're set then. I'm packed and I'm feeling good."

"Sit down," Morgan growled. "I'm not finished. Talk about the scar."

McGee looked away.

"Tell him, McGee."

"It was a bad day, nothing more."

Gibbs looked from one to the other. "You had a surgeon coming in to discuss laser treatments."

"Two days ago." Morgan kept his eyes fixed on McGee.

He looked down at his hands. "I freaked, Boss. He wanted me to lie down and let him touch it. I couldn't handle it. I reacted. Pushed him. He ended up leaving without doing the consult."

Gibbs narrowed his eyes at Morgan. "And you want him to go home? I don't get it."

"It's part of the process of healing. He has to take steps. I want three meetings a week, and I talked to the surgeon. He says he'll try again in a week."

"The longer he waits, the harder it's going to be to get it off." Gibbs felt his voice rising.

McGee shook his head. "I don't know what you're expecting, Boss, but I've done the reading. There will always be some trace of a scar. I'll always have the reminder."

"Doc, call the surgeon. See if he'll come in at the end of the week. I'll come in with McGee."

"Boss!"

"No. I don't want you looking at that thing in a year wondering if you could've done more to remove it."

"Okay."

"The last condition: he can go home today if he stays with someone."

"You're real subtle, aren't you? I see the look on your face. He'll bunk with me as long as you want."

"No! I mean, come on!" McGee was on his feet. "You value your privacy too much."

"As do you, McGee," Morgan said. "But we can't have you isolating right now. Three meetings a week with me and you stay with Gibbs. That's the deal. If you're not interested, that's fine. I hear tonight is lasagna night in the cafeteria. You can join your friends in pretending it tastes good."

McGee glared at him for a long moment before looking at Gibbs. "It's only going to take me a few minutes to pack up my gear."

…..

Tony stared at the couch in front of him. It looked deep. Getting up again could be a struggle. He headed for a rather ornate armchair instead and eased into it.

"Wouldn't you prefer to lie down, Tony? You've been traveling all day."

He shook his head at Ducky. "Feeling fine."

"You should rest."

"I want to see McGee. Will you drive me? The Israeli took away my keys."

"You won't be allowed on the unit."

Tony slapped the arm of the chair. "They will when I show up with my gun."

"Now, now. None of that."

"Why am I not allowed to speak with him?"

"His therapist's idea."

"I want to meet this son of a bitch."

"You will. You're scheduled with him three times a week, starting tomorrow."

Ziva came in the room, put her hands on her hips, pursed her lips, and disappeared.

Tony looked up at Ducky. "Save me from her."

She reappeared with a pillow and headed toward him. Before he could protest, she yanked him forward and settled the pillow behind his head. She ignored his yelp as she turned to Ducky. "I think we should put him in pajamas. Should we bathe him first?"

"She's like a sadistic 8 year old who pulls the heads off her dolls," Tony croaked.

"Ignore him," she said. "I've been with him for ten days in Ohio. He complains constantly. I have watched the nurses. They bathed him often and they never listened to what he said."

"Yes," Ducky said looking from Tony to her. "Bathing is important, but I think it is important to allow him a little latitude. He's out of the hospital and should be allowed some autonomy to make his own decisions now."

"Meaning?" She cocked her head.

"Leave him alone, Ziva," he said firmly.

"Yes!" Tony tried to pump his arm, but his gut seized and he leaned forward and moaned.

"Do you see? He is a child." She said, pointing at him.

"On this we agree, but he is strong enough to be allowed his mistakes. He'll learn."

Ziva folded her arms and glared at both of them. Ducky blinked. "I think I'll make us some tea."

There was knocking on the front door and Ducky nodded. "It's probably Jethro. He's been anxious to see you."

Ziva followed and then Tony heard an exclamation of surprise. "McGee!"

Tony gripped the arms of the chair and pushed himself up. A wave of dizziness hit him and he started falling forward. Then strong arms had him, and he looked up. "Boss."

"Hey Tony." Gibbs smiled as he eased him back into his chair. "No need to jump around. Take it easy. He's coming."

"McGee," he groaned.

"He's here. He just needs to peel Ziva off."

Ziva was still wrapped around his arm when McGee walked in. "Hey Tony."

Tony smiled at him. "Let me look at you."

McGee let go of Ziva and knelt in front of him. Tony reached over and patted his face. "You're thin and you're not sleeping."

"You look like hell too, Tony."

"If we were like Gibbs, we'd have kicked this whole thing by now."

McGee looked up at Gibbs. "I think the same thing every day."

"The two of you need to knock that off. You didn't know me when I lost my family. I looked a lot worse than both of you. It's time to heal now. That's our focus."

McGee stood. "Got it, Boss."

There was a long silence as they acknowledged the time that had passed since they'd all been together. Finally Gibbs cleared his throat. "Duck, you were telling me on the phone this morning that you still needed to get some things from the grocery. Let's go do that."

"Oh yes, right. Let me grab my coat."

"I'll stay with Tony," Ziva said.

"No!" Tony said and then he furrowed his brow in concern. "You've been waiting on me hand and foot for days. You need some fresh air. Get out there…and go shopping for…some vegetables or something."

"Yes Ziva," Ducky said, steering her toward the door. "You come with us. McGee will sit with Tony."

McGee waited until they were alone and then he made a face. "Ziva giving you trouble?"

"My own personal nurse Ratchet."

"I don't understand."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Your movie education is going to be a lifelong battle for me, isn't it?"

"I guess so."

"So Gibbs sprung you, huh?"

McGee settled on the couch. "Yeah, but I have to stay with the boss for now. Morgan has me scheduled three times a week."

"Is that the asshole that wouldn't let me talk to you?"

"Yup. I hear you're going to start meeting with him too."

"Can't wait."

"He's tough but he understands."

"Why couldn't I talk to you? Did he think I would make you worse?"

"He just wanted me to focus on me. That's all."

"Did you?"

"Sure," he shrugged. "I did what I was supposed to do."

"How do you feel?"

"I feel like crap, Tony. I feel weak and damaged. I worry that the life I worked so hard for is gone forever. That's what I feel."

"Terrific! You're much better." He tossed his head. "It boggles the mind that they released you."

McGee leaned forward. "Okay tough guy, how do you feel?"

"How do you think? I can't make it to the bathroom on my own without needing a three hour nap afterward."

"The nightmares?"

Tony shook his head.

"Don't! You said we wouldn't have secrets. I can't get better if I feel all this shame about my struggle. It helps me to know I'm not the only one."

Tony closed his eyes. "I'm in the room when Watkins is carving on you. You can't speak and I keep calling you Evie. I tell Watkins to carve on me, but he won't do it. That's my nightmare. I have it every night. Does that help you?"

McGee stared at him for a long time and then heaved. He jumped up, ran into the bathroom, and slammed the door. Tony winced at the sounds of violent vomiting. It was awhile before he saw McGee again.

"I'm sorry, Tim."

McGee shook his head as he sat back down. "It's not your fault. Not any part of this."

"I want to see it."

He shook his head.

"Tim, please."

"I wouldn't even let the plastic surgeon see it. I drove him away."

"Don't be an idiot!"

"Yeah, I know. Boss is bringing him back this week. Says he's going to be in there with me."

Tony shook his head. "No, I'm the one. I wasn't there when it happened, but I'll be there when it gets fixed. Please. I think it will help both of us."

McGee sighed. "I'll think about it."

Tony reached over and patted his hand. "Thank you."

McGee narrowed his eyes. "How long is the duckman keeping you?"

"Week or two. He won't commit, and if I fight him on going home, I'll end up in Ziva's clutches."

"She's that bad?"

"She means well, but she's bored and impatient. Dangerous combination. Imagine a ninja as your nurse."

McGee shuddered. "Enough said."

"I need movies."

McGee grew a smile. "And I need something to do. I'll go take measurements and check out the outlets. I'll have you set up by the end of the day."

"I want everything."

He got up. "I know you do. By the time I'm finished, you will have every movie, tv show, and internet site you want to access hooked up to a single remote."

Tony smiled. "I love you, McGee."

"Yeah, I know. Let's get you into bed." McGee leaned over and slung Tony's arm over his shoulder.

"I declare my love, and you can't wait to get me in bed. Typical man."

McGee chuckled. "Yeah, that's me."

….

"You going to glare at me the whole time?"

"I'm supposed to trust you? You refused me access to my partner. Treated me like I was bad for him or something."

Morgan sighed. "Get it out of your system, DiNozzo. We got time."

"He needs me."

"I agree."

"Then what gives?"

"He's your probie, right?"

"He is."

"But you started working together almost ten years ago. When is he not going to be your probie?"

"Never. Next question."

"The two of you have got this brother-in-arms thing down pat, don't you?"

Tony frowned. "For a former Marine, you don't seem to have much understanding of the bond men in law enforcement have."

"The two of you are more enmeshed than most. I spent ten days trying to get McGee to think of something other than how you were doing or how he had failed you."

Tony sighed. "We've been through a lot together."

"I've read your files. I have some idea. He was very young when he came to your team."

Tony snorted. "You have no idea. He looked like a college freshman. I couldn't believe it when Gibbs put him on the team."

Morgan narrowed his eyes. "Say more."

Tony blinked. "He was smart and creative, but he was bumbling and awkward. At first, I thought Gibbs put him on the team to teach me a lesson. I thought he was telling me that I was getting too cocky or something, and bringing McGee on was to prove that anyone could do the job."

"You rode him hard then?"

"You have no idea. I thought he would last 2…3 months tops."

"But he didn't go away…"

"Nope. He soaked up everything like a sponge, and he kept coming back for more."

"But it was more than that for you. Family is important to you."

Tony chuckled. "You think you're a pretty clever son of a bitch, don't you? Cranston must've given you her reports."

"Yes, she did."

"I push people away. I've been left too many times. My mother. My father. Wendy. Kate. But McGee…" He shook his head. "I couldn't get rid of him. No matter what I did, he seemed to like me. Even when he's annoyed with me, I know he won't give up. I guess I adopted him."

"That was until Evie."

"I'll admit it, that really tested us. I felt abandoned by him. I was scared that he'd stopped caring."

"Do you feel that anymore?"

Tony shook his head. "Being kidnapped by Nazis really cleared that up. He's my brother in every way that matters."

"So we solved a problem then."

"I'll be sure to thank Watkins when I see him next."

"Your connection is strong again, and that's good news. Now, it's time to deal with the trauma."

"Can't wait."

Morgan studied him for a moment. "Just start at the beginning and walk me through the whole thing. Take the all time you need."

….

The moon was full, and it was late enough in the night for the dew to form, and he stood in the wet grass and stared at a tree with a stick in his hand. He mouthed words over and over, and tried to imagine the replies. Sometimes, he put the stick down, and sometimes he held onto it. He sighed as he finished his last pantomime, still holding the stick.

"Did the tree surrender this time?"

He whirled around, eyes wild. Gibbs sat on the back stoop drinking coffee.

"Boss, I woke you! I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. I heard you pacing in your room about an hour ago."

McGee shook his head. "This really isn't fair to you. You deserve some rest."

"Can't let you go home to an apartment. There aren't any good trees to fight with."

"Yeah." He looked down at the stick in his hand.

"Come on over and sit down. I have a hot cup for you. I even added cream."

McGee sat down next to him and picked up the cup. "Thanks."

"Have you figured it out?"

He shook his head. "I think they would've killed her if I didn't put down the gun. They were wild, spoiling for a fight. They wanted to kill."

"I believe you."

"I should've been more creative though. Held out longer. Given the State Patrol a chance to close in."

"Yes, that would've been better than surrendering."

"I looked at her and I saw Evie." McGee was rubbing his middle again. Gibbs noticed he did it when he was most anxious."

"McGee, you thought you were saving that girl's life when you put down the weapon, but you weren't. You put down your weapon, and you gave them full control. There was no reason to believe that they would've left her live. It was only pure dumb luck that they let her run. 9 out of 10 times, you put down your gun, and they massacre everyone. The fact that you all lived is a miracle."

"It was a rookie mistake."

"Yeah, but you and Tony were distracted, and I knew that. Putting you in that position was my responsibility. It was reckless. I made a mistake and so did you."

"You think you can trust me again?"

"McGee, I have yet to see you not grow from a mistake. If something like that ever happens again, I know you won't put down that gun. You'll know that putting down that gun does not save the hostage."

"Lesson learned."

"Can you sleep? You have to see the surgeon in a few hours."

"Tony wants to be the one to go in with me."

Gibbs sighed. "That's going to be tough on both of you, but I think it's a good idea."

"Thanks Boss."

…

Gibbs watched as McGee took DiNozzo around the unit and introduced him to the guys. Everyone that knew McGee seemed genuinely happy to see him. Morgan sidled up next to him. "The surgeon will be ready for them in a few minutes."

"How are we doing, Doc?"

"You're a family, Gibbs. As long as you don't hide from one another, I think you can beat anything."

"DiNozzo?"

"He doesn't like being vulnerable. We're still sparring most of the session."

"So this is it? We just keep coming until you say everyone is better?"

He shook his head. "I don't think that will be enough for men like you. You need to complete a circle."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"I called Evie's school."

Gibbs looked at him. "Why?"

"Wanted to check in. Seems that they've been having trouble."

Gibbs shook his head. "Of course. It was a trauma. What do you want us to do?"

"Law enforcement identified three boys from the video of Evie's assault. However, there was no complaining witness, and they claimed it was consensual. The best the school could do was expel them."

"Damn."

"Oh, it gets worse. These were very popular boys, members of the football team. In the wake of their expulsion, they've become the victims. There's a Facebook page called Evie Lied. Students are wearing t-shirts to school with the pictures of her abusers. They're martyrs now. Principal said that incidents of sexual harassment are up- especially by members of the football team. He thinks these guys need a reality check. Seems like you specialize in that sort of thing."

Gibbs stared at Morgan. "Are you serious?"

"It might be one last thing you can all do for Evie. Think about it."

"Dr. Morgan."

Both men turned and Morgan extended a hand. "Dr. Paul. This is Special Agent Gibbs. Thanks for coming in again. Special Agent McGee is prepared to see you."

"That's good. We can't wait much longer to get the maximal outcome on that scarring."

…..

McGee sat on the exam table and DiNozzo stood beside him. Dr. Paul regarded them. "Have you been using the medicated lotion I gave you to keep the skin pliable?"

"Yes."

"Good. Today, I need to get a look at it. It's imperative that we don't wait any longer to start treatments."

"Of course. You want me to lie down?"

Dr. Paul nodded. "Do you feel safe this time?"

McGee looked at Tony. "My partner is here."

"Lay down and pull up your shirt. Let's get a look at this thing."

Tony nodded. "I got you, Probie."

McGee took a deep breath and pulled his shirt up. His breath quickened but he stayed still. Tony put his hand on his arm and leaned forward. The swastika was ragged, deep in some parts, shallow in others. He sucked in breath. "How did I not know this was happening?"

McGee shook his head. "Please."

"I'm sorry." Tony patted his arm. "Okay Doc, what do you need to do?"

"We need to start laser treatments as soon as possible. I'm going to touch the edges of this, okay?"

McGee nodded and Tony grasped his hand. The surgeon probed the healing wound and McGee flinched. "Does that hurt?"

"No," McGee said. "It's just uncomfortable."

"Do you know anything about the knife?"

"Hunting blade. Retractable."

"It's infected. Are you still taking antibiotics?"

"I finished those."

"I'm going to start you on another course of something stronger. It's been over two weeks since the assault. I would expect less swelling by now. Okay. You can put your shirt down and sit up."

McGee let out a sigh of relief and pulled his shirt down. Tony helped him up.

Dr. Paul frowned. "I want to start the treatments right away. Can you come to my office this evening?"

"Yeah," Tony said.

Paul looked at McGee. "He's answering for you?"

"This kind of happened to both of us. We need to put it behind us."

"Good. I'm booked until 7 p.m., but I'll take you after hours."

Tony shook his hand. "Thanks for accommodating us."

Dr. Paul nodded. "It's the least I can do. You deserve the best treatment out there, Special Agent McGee."

When Paul left, McGee looked at Tony. "It was late in the evening. You were probably unconscious, and they were roaring drunk. I thought I was going to escape anything major- at least for the night. Then Watkins got out his knife. Someone grabbed me from behind and stuffed a sock in my mouth. Then they were all holding me, and Watkins was sitting on my thighs. He started drawing on my face and body. They kept egging him on. I figured that was the end, but I knew it would take hours. He pulled out the blade and started on my gut. There wasn't anything I could do. It was excruciating. I had that damn key in my mouth and I was sure I was going to swallow it. Thank God for the sock. It took him forever to finish this, and he kept calling it art. Then someone suggested they have another shot before he carved another. One turned into two and then three. I just laid there and waited. The talking stopped and the snoring started. Then I got back to you as quick as I could. That's all. There's nothing more."

Tony's eyes were wet but he couldn't speak. He just nodded and then pulled McGee in for a hug.

….


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Sorry it took so long. I struggled with this chapter a lot. Some of it comes from my own experience working with teens in crisis, and I had trouble separating the story from my own memories. There is one chapter left. Thanks for reading. I always enjoy knowing what you think. Sheila

Letting Go

Chapter 7

"So why do you think you did it?"

"Aw, Doc, you really going to ask that every time we meet?"

"Until you explore it to its very core, it's always going to be the first question I ask." Morgan shifted in his leather chair.

Gibbs sighed. "Thought about it a lot. I've given you half answers up to now."

"Exactly!"

"I jumped on this mission without thinking it through because I was afraid."

"The great and mighty Gibbs?"

"Shut up and listen. I was scared. The fighting between them had gone to a level." He shook his head. "I looked in McGee's eyes and I knew he was going to run. I knew he'd take the first posting Vance offered him."

Morgan shrugged. "People leave, Gibbs."

He leaned forward. "I have a top notch team. We know each other's strengths, can anticipate each other's thoughts, needs. It's as well oiled as it gets. But make no mistake, we understand each other because we are all damaged- each one of us. McGee will leave one day, but he needs to leave for the right reasons."

"You were scared for him?"

"I was scared for all of us, particularly him and DiNozzo. McGee is the most reliable person in his life. He tolerates Tony's antics and likes him in spite of it all. McGee is reserved- he hides way too much. No one gets deeper with him than DiNozzo. They fight and tease and fuss at each other, but they need each other. Together, they are whole. Pulled apart in a bad way, I was afraid they would revert to old habits- bad ones. I want the best for them."

"You were thinking like a parent."

Gibbs winced. "It's my weakness."

Morgan shook his head. "I disagree. Sometimes, damaged people need someone like you, someone to watch over them. You got scared and you saw the Watkins transport as an opportunity."

"Almost got them killed. And the damage from this…" Gibbs shook his head.

"They're survivors, Jethro. This will shape them but not break them."

"What if you hadn't been feeling scared, would you have sent them?"

He sighed. "Maybe. I knew that we wanted him. He'd committed the most crimes on Navy soil. He was dangerous. It made sense to send a seasoned pair."

"That seasoned pair?"

"If they hadn't been fighting, yes."

"So, it would've made sense."

"What's your point, Doc?"

"Every day, our emotions impact our decisions. Most days we get it right. Others, we don't. You sent the right pair but at the wrong time. You made half a good decision. You'll be less impulsive next time. Now, it's time to get over it."

"Really?"

"Yeah." Morgan sat back.

Gibbs blinked. "That's it?"

"Yes, you're going to have to satisfy yourself with being human like all the rest of us."

"You're a piece of work, Morgan."

"I'm a Marine, Gunny, and so are you. It's all you really needed to hear." He clapped his large hands. "So, it's been two weeks since I dropped that little tidbit about Evie James' high school. What did you do about it?"

Gibbs slowly smiled.

…

McGee slowly rubbed his belly while he drove.

"Stop it!"

"It itches," he whined.

"Don't touch it! The doc said to not touch it. You still have one more laser treatment." Tony frowned.

"I can still feel it."

"You have to give it a couple more days. Swelling will go down."

"I don't know."

"McGee, the man said it's fading, so have some faith already."

McGee eased off the highway.

"Ducky says I'll should probably try things at home now. He thinks I'm ready. Can you believe that? I'm still convalescing."

McGee's mouth twitched.

Tony glared. "What was that? Did you just smirk? Do you want me to knock you out in the middle of the highway?"

"Technically, we have exited the highway."

"Why did you smirk?"

McGee smiled and adopted his best Kung Fu accent. "Because young grasshopper, it is time for you to leave the nest."

"Shut up!"

"Tony," he said, chuckling. "You don't like to be alone. You stay at work late or go out afterward so you don't have to be alone."

"I live alone, McWrong."

"You live alone because you're afraid to commit, but you don't like being alone."

"Then what's your excuse? You're still incarcerated at Gibbs'."

"Yeah, that's a problem. Unlike you, I like to be alone. Boss says I have to stay until the nightmares are gone."

"Tough break."

"Hey!" McGee turned to him. "You stay with Gibbs and I'll go home."

Tony made a face. "Ducky's nicer. Makes me tea and something called rarebit or rabbit. It gets confusing because there's no rabbit in it. Besides, Gibbs stays in his basement the whole time sanding things."

"Tell me about it. I bring him dinner every night and the best I can get out of him is the occasional grunt."

Tony nodded and stared out the windshield. "You ready to face Evie's school?"

McGee shrugged. "I've been editing the video that Dorneget pulled off school cameras and hacking facebook pages for two days. These parents are going to be in for quite a surprise. I'm just glad that Gibbs and Ziva are going to handle the parent meeting."

Tony wrinkled his brow. "You know, McGee, you wouldn't be such a bad roommate."

McGee screwed up his face. "Two words, DiNozzo. Murder suicide."

…..

Gibbs sat up on the dais while inconvenienced parents found spots in the auditorium next to their students. Most of the students were male athletes, and the females that were there, were like the haughty, privileged girls Gibbs remembered from his own high school. The school football coach sat next to him, arms folded tightly. The man hadn't said a word since Gibbs had shown him and the principal the evidence. Ziva stood behind him, unwilling to accept the proffered chair. On the other side of him sat the Commander for Quantico. This normally wouldn't sit within his purview, but Quantico was like a nation on to itself, and the old Marine Lieutenant General tolerated nothing in the way of scandal.

The principal, a woman in her fifties stood up at the podium as soon as people got settled. "Thank you all for coming on a Friday afternoon on short notice. We would not have called you in if it hadn't been absolutely necessary."

An angry man in the audience stood. "This better not be about those three expelled boys again. That was a travesty. Good students. Good athletes. They were railroaded, and I know the coach up there agrees. Our children have the right to protest that. It's a free country afterall."

Several parents in the audience hooted and clapped their agreement.

The principal frowned. "If the complaining witness was still alive, those young men would be facing much more than simple expulsion."

A woman stood. "That's our point. She was mentally ill, unstable. She committed suicide for God's sake. You cannot trust a crazy person."

"Exactly!" Said another woman. You've ruined three lives out of this nonsense. They had futures. Possible college scholarships in football. That's all gone now. The coach will tell you."

The coach beside Gibbs stood up abruptly and approached the podium. He looked at the principal. "Do you mind?"

She stepped aside. For a moment, he didn't speak. Then he leaned in to the microphone. "Being coach at this high school has been one of the most fulfilling experiences of my life. I love sports and I love kids. I have the perfect job. When those three boys were expelled, I was shocked. I didn't believe that they could possibly be responsible for those unspeakable acts- even after I watched the video evidence. I was in denial. This afternoon I was shown more evidence of what players and students have done. The shame I feel right now is deeper than anything I have ever experienced. I would advise everyone in this audience to just shut up and listen."

The room stared back in stunned silence. The general nodded at Gibbs. He walked to the podium. "I am Special Agent Gibbs with NCIS. With the principal's and commander's permission, we have studied school cameras over the last few days and accessed certain Facebook pages. Let me show you what we found."

He nodded at Ziva, and she cued up the large screen in the auditorium. It was a mixture of video and screen captures from the internet done meticulously by McGee. She moved through it slowly so everyone could absorb it. It started with a "We hate Evie" Facebook page filled with rude and obscene comments about her. She made sure there was time for them to read them and identify the names of their children. Then she moved to a "The Quantico Three were framed" page filled with similarly angry rhetoric. Many of the comments were obscenely directed at the principal. Then she accessed a page called "From fugly to fine". Here there were photos of various female students with lewd comments about their appearance and sexuality.

One of the fathers stood up and approached the screen, and Gibbs could see he was zeroing in on a photo that was undoubtedly his daughter. His face turned red and his breathing deepened as he read the comments claiming that she was a slut and a whore. Gibbs got up quietly and stepped down into the audience. He walked up to the man and said something into his ear and gently led him back to his seat.

The presentation switched to video shots of kids in hallways. There was a disturbing sequence where girls and unpopular kids had to walk by groups of male athletes who shouted insults or commented on female body parts. There was always a lookout and the boys scattered when teachers came down the hall. Other video captures featured kids being pushed or punched without warning. There were videos of boys grabbing girls sexually. The audio picked up squeals and protests as girls struggled to get away from their molesters.

When the video stopped there was a long silence. Then a man stood. "Why isn't the school doing more about this?"

The principal came to the podium. "That's why you're here. Our staff to student ratio is 1 to 40. We can't be in all places at one time."

A red-faced woman stood. "Are you going to stand there and pretend that this is any different than what happens in any other high school? Kids get rowdy. They misbehave. It's natural."

The principal pointed at the screen angrily. "This is not natural and it's not acceptable!"

"Why aren't the kids reporting this harassment?" Came a voice from the back.

"Because they believe that their attackers will get away with it, and because we, as adults and parents, have made excuses for their assaultive behavior. Most of you saw the video of the three students assaulting Evie and you told yourself and your children that it was consensual. It was not. Evie's dead because she didn't think adults would help her. We have all made this atmosphere possible."

"You can't blame our kids for everything!"

The coach shook his head and joined the principal at the podium. "I've written down names of all the players from my team depicted on these videos. As of now, they are off the team."

"You can't do that! My son was hoping for a scholarship!"

The coach narrowed his eyes at the screaming woman. "Then I suggest you have him focus on his grades. Some volunteer work would also be in order. He needs character building."

The room erupted in shouting. Gibbs shook his head at Ziva in disgust. The general elbowed his way past the principal and coach and roared for quiet into the microphone. The old Marine was no joke and everyone on base knew it. The yelling stopped immediately. He was a large man and the microphone almost disappeared in his meaty fist. "Listen up, people! I have something to say! I'm appalled at the excuses I'm hearing. I don't want to hear another thing about those three boys who were expelled. If there was any justice, they would also be facing criminal charges. I hear you talking about how Evie was sick. You don't know that. That poor girl was hurting, and she didn't think that anyone would believe her. We failed that girl! Every person in this room failed her!"

He stopped a moment, breathing hard, while he watched their reactions. "If I thought that this was about school officials not paying attention, there'd be plenty of people with pink slips right now, but sitting in this room with all of you parents tells me that our problem is much deeper. All I'm hearing out of you is excuses. The words on those websites and the actions in those videos make me sick. Do they make you sick?"

The father who spotted his daughter's picture on a website stood again. "I'm sick."

"Good! I hear concerns about scholarships and sports. Those things are important, but we can't keep making excuses for meanness. We have to take a stand! Every single student on those videos attacking or harassing another student is suspended pending expulsion. Any of the students responsible for those reprehensible websites faces the same consequences."

"You're kicking out our kids?!" yelled a woman in the back.

"Oh, I'd like to. Best to just start over with a new bunch, but we can't give up on 'em. We have a responsibility. I've spoken with the principal and NCIS. We're going to give this kids a chance at redemption."

"What does that mean?"

"I want every student in this room who still wants to be part of this school to be in this auditorium tomorrow at 6 a.m. Dress for hard work. Every Saturday until the end of the school year is going to be spent doing community service and other character building activities."

"That seems like overkill," said one woman.

The general furrowed thick brows at her. "Take it or leave it, lady."

He left the podium and sidled up to Gibbs. "We're going to run 'em like raw recruits until noon tomorrow. Then they're yours for the afternoon. Have fun."

Gibbs looked up at the ceiling and sighed.

…

"I don't want to do this," McGee murmured to DiNozzo as they sat in the classroom waiting for the suspended students.

"It's going to be just fine," Tony said. "I was watching them out there picking up trash. It does them good to learn some humility."

"I just don't think they're going to get it. Bullies rarely do. Plus, the Boss won't even tell us what we're supposed to say."

"Boss says we'll know what to say when it comes time."

"I hate speaking in front of people."

"Relax, McNerves."

Gibbs and Ziva led in about 30 students and directed them to chairs set up in a circle. The coach and principal followed. The kids were largely sullen, and the smell of sweat and grass filled the air.

Gibbs took a chair, swung it around, and settled in leaning over the back. He surveyed with the room with sharp blue eyes. "They came down on you hard yesterday, but we didn't really get to hear from you. How about talking a little about what you think is going on here."

At first, no one spoke. Then a blonde girl folded her arms tightly. "It's unfair. He said we were responsible for Evie's death and it's not true. She jumped."

Gibbs nodded. "I believe you're here because you set up the "We hate Evie" Facebook page. What was that all about?"

"If she hadn't caused all this trouble, nobody would be expelled. We'd all be having a good year."

"What about the kids in the video getting harassed and picked on? Are they having a good year?"

She rolled her eyes. "Everybody does it. Anybody who doesn't try to fit in deserves it."

"So everyone should be like you."

She chuckled. "Fat chance."

He sighed. "You're right. We certainly wouldn't want everyone to be like you."

He looked at a big kid who had been staring at the floor since they entered. "What about you?"

The kid looked up. "I was hoping for a football scholarship, but my dad told me that I didn't deserve one, and I think he's right. He says that to whom much is given, much is expected. I've always been good at sports. I have all the friends I could want, and I go to all the best parties. There was no reason for me to pick on anyone, and I can't quite figure out why I thought it was so cool to do it. I knew those guys went too far with Evie, but I didn't care. My dad is really ashamed of me."

Gibbs nodded. "That's the first mature thing I've heard out of any of you. Your lives aren't just about you. You impact the world around you, and you get to choose whether you make a positive mark or a negative one. Sounds like you have a good dad. Tell me something. What do you think it takes to make a man?"

The kid screwed up his face for a moment. "Strength, success."

"What about the rest of you young men? What does it take to be a man?"

Another kid raised his hand. "You got to be smart and you got to be brave."

"Good. What else?"

Most of the kids just shrugged. Tony took that moment to stand. "A real man cares about the world around him. He understands his strength, and he uses it to grow and help others."

An angry kid with a Marine buzz cut burst out. "So we all gotta be social workers, right?"

Tony zeroed in on him. "Do I look like a social worker to you?" He patted his side where his gun usually sat. "Social workers don't usually pack heat. A real man uses his power wisely. When he uses it to hurt others who don't deserve it, it means that he's lost his way. You're on your way to becoming a man, but in my eyes, you've lost your way."

Gibbs' phone buzzed and he frowned at it. Then he signaled Ziva and headed out of the room. Tony didn't have time to think about it as one kid said, "You don't even know us."

He turned to him. "Wouldn't be so sure about that, kid. I was you. Privileged kid, athlete- I knew how to throw my weight around. It took me a long time to grow up. Shoot, my friends here would say I still have a ways to go. Don't tell me I don't know you."

"We aren't trying to hurt anybody," claimed one girl.

"I don't buy that. If you really believe you're not hurting people, it's because you're not paying attention. You need to wake up and start thinking about how you treat people."

"You're ruining our futures."

Tony shook his head impatiently. "Nobody's ruining anything. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and take this opportunity to learn something."

"The nerds don't even try to fit in. Evie hardly had any friends and she wore weird clothes and dyed her hair blue. What did she expect?"

Tony turned on his heel. "Let me introduce you to our resident nerd expert. Special Agent Timothy McGee."

McGee got up reluctantly. For a moment all he did was look around the room. "I don't have much to say to you. I was a nerd. Got picked on. Harassed. I even got beat up a couple of times. I don't have much sympathy for anyone here, but I can tell you a couple of things about nerds."

For the first time, no one had a whiny response. They seemed startled at the idea of a federal agent being a former nerd.

"We're not trying to be like you," he explained. "We don't trust you and we don't envy you. You want everyone to be the same, but nerds know the world is more diverse than that. It's not interesting to us to be like everyone else. You want to punish us for being different. It sucks but we survive, and we grow, and we usually end up more successful than you ever will be."

"Evie wasn't a survivor. She killed herself."

McGee turned and advanced on the girl who said that. "No, she didn't! I was there and so was Special Agent DiNozzo. She was trying to get off that ledge when she slipped."

The room got still. McGee shook his head sharply. "You hurt her bad and she didn't know what to do. She was a good person. Tony here tried everything he could to talk her down and she was listening. It wasn't anybody's fault that she slipped. Not mine. Not Tony's and certainly not Evie's. We did the best we could."

Tony nodded. "My friend here, Tim, almost died trying to catch her. We think about her every day. Sometimes, we dream about saving her, but we know it's too late. She deserved so much better."

One of the girls started sobbing. "We didn't kill her!"

Tony flashed eyes at her. "Then learn from this! Think about how you treat people. Think about why you're here. If you do that, her death has some meaning."

McGee put a hand on his arm. "The reason we're here talking to you is that we couldn't save her, and that hurt…a lot. We're here because we can honor her by trying to reach you. Do you understand?"

One of the football players looked up with tears in his eyes. "We didn't want her to die."

"Well, she did, and now we gotta fix it," Tony said, his voice shaky. "This is a moment of truth. You all have to take a good, hard look at what you've done. This isn't the end for you. This is an opportunity for a new beginning, but you have to stop acting like you're the victims."

"I'm sorry," sobbed one of the girls. Other kids started joining in. McGee closed his eyes and struggled to settle his breathing as students gave in to their feelings.

He felt a hand on his back. "Come on Probie. Let's go. They don't need us anymore."

He steered McGee out of the room and left the emotional students with their principal and coach.

…

It was windy when they got outside the school. Dark storm clouds were rumbling overhead. McGee looked around. "Where's the boss?"

"I don't know." Tony scanned the parking lot.

"McGee! DiNozzo!"

They turned to find Gibbs trotting toward them, gun drawn.

"What the hell?" Tony stiffened.

"We got a problem," Gibbs said, wind blowing the folds of his jacket. "Ziva is checking the car. She'll bring it around."

"Checking the car for what?" McGee frowned.

"Got a call from Fornell. Things have gone south in Ohio. The gas station's daughter, Felicia Jones, was found dead last night."

"How?"

"You don't want to know."

"There was carving, wasn't there? They marked her."

Gibbs looked away. "Local field office pulled a print. They arrested a guy this morning and pushed him hard. Apparently, there's contract out on all of you. Good money attached. The trial for Watkins starts in two weeks. We gotta put you in a safe house."

"No!" McGee yelled.

Ziva drove up and rolled down the window. "The car's clean. No bugs, no bombs."

"Get in!"

McGee shook his head and backed up. "I'm not doing this! I'm not hiding. Let 'em come. I'm ready."

Gibbs shook his head. "We don't have time for this, Tim."

Raindrops started pelting their faces.

McGee looked at Tony and shook his head. "I'm not a victim."

Tony nodded. "You and I are survivors, but we also have to be witnesses. We got to put away our ego this one time. That trial doesn't happen if we're not there."

"Think about what happened to that poor woman, Tony. Think about what they did to her. We cut off a head and two more grow in its place." McGee's hand had crept to that familiar place on his abdomen.

Rain flattened his hair, but Tony stayed focused on his partner. "Doesn't matter, Tim. Good will always defeat evil in the end. We have to keep fighting."

McGee turned to Gibbs. "Sorry Boss."

"Then get in the damn car, McGee! I'm too old to stand around in the rain."

McGee nodded and followed his team as they piled into the sedan.

…

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: This was supposed to be the last chapter, but after 20 pages I realized I needed another one. The next one will be the end. I hope you like this and what I have planned next. Always great to hear from you. Sheila

Letting Go

Chapter 8

DiNozzo twisted on the leather couch to look behind him. There were three suits in the kitchen, two without the sense God gave them to take off their sunglasses indoors.

"Agent DiNozzo, can you answer my question?"

He narrowed his eyes at them.

"Agent DiNozzo!"

He turned back to the federal prosecutor with a sigh. "It seems my detail has grown. Know anything about that?"

"No," she said sighing. "I'm sure they're changing shifts or something."

"Doesn't usually look like that." He turned again. "Hey boys! What's going on?"

They stopped their conversation for a moment. "Nothing, Tony." Then they went back to their huddle.

"Liars," he mumbled under his breath.

"Please Agent DiNozzo! We have to go over your testimony again."

He threw up his hands. "Listen counselor, we've already gone through it three times."

She pushed at the glasses on the bridge of her nose impatiently. "Yes, and each time we do it, you testify to things you didn't see."

"I was there."

"You were shot, on the ground, and you can only identify one of the men at the gas station. You were unconscious until you got to the house. There you only interacted with Watkins. Everything else that happened is heresay. Your partner can testify to it, but you can't."

"Then you're lucky you got both of us."

She looked down at her legal pad and shook her head.

"What? He's got a brain like a computer. He remembers everything. Come on, you've interviewed him. Surely, you know that."

She put her pencil down and sat back. "He is really the crux of this whole prosecution. Without him, we don't have a chance. Can I be frank?"

"Might as well. The female thing's not really working for you." He grimaced. "Sorry."

"You haven't seen him in ten days."

"It wasn't my stupid idea to separate us."

"It's crucial to the case that you not discuss testimony, and we are dotting every I and crossing every t. Prosecuting Watkins for the kidnapping of federal agents, murder of Mr. Jones, and conspiracy to commit murder is tricky. We have to prove that he was complicit in the murder of the gas station owner, your attempted murder, and the kidnapping. His counsel is going to argue that he didn't know about the rescue attempt and that he was every bit the victim of the kidnapping that you were."

Tony shook his head sharply. "Nobody will believe that. Besides, we got plenty of things to prosecute him for."

"But we would like to prosecute him in Federal District Court. We can get the death penalty if we can connect him to the conspiracy, and if that happens, we don't have to worry about who gets him. We can close the book on this hump, and stop spending hundreds of thousands of state dollars fighting over him."

Tony shrugged. "Works for me. What's the problem with McGee?"

"The defense has requested a great deal of discovery on him- mostly related to his emotional and mental stability. They're going to come at him hard."

"He can take it."

She narrowed her eyes. "Can he? I don't see the human computer you do. He's jumpy, anxious, and he's resisting his detail."

DiNozzo leaned forward. "Because you idiots are hiding things from him. He needs information. He lives on knowledge. You can't keep things from him."

She snorted. "His detail was dumb enough to give him a computer to use without internet access. Figured it would keep him occupied. It took him about ten minutes to pirate access from a carrier."

Tony grinned. "That's my McGenius."

"Yes, while you've been content to watch movies, read books, and play pranks on your unwitting detail, he used his pirated access to hack into the casefiles. He found Felicia Jones' crime scene photos."

Tony blew out air. "Stupid!"

"And to whom are you referring?"

"Was there anyone there who knew how to talk him through it? We heard that she was marked like he was."

"We were going to bring in his therapist, but with the amount of discovery that the defense is doing on him, they would undoubtedly get a hold of that piece of information. Your boss and agent David have been busy working the Felicia Jones murder in Ohio so we didn't call them. We did call Agent Fornell and he came and spent the evening with him."

Tony pushed off the couch. "What is wrong with you people? He's got PTSD!"

"As do you, but you're handling it better than he is."

He leaned over her chair, his face inches from hers. "Nobody held me down and tortured me with a knife, and I didn't have to make the decisions he did. I'm alive because of him. I want you to imagine the balls it took to get away and then turn around and come back for me. He's a hero!"

"He gave up his weapon!"

Tony shook his head and stepped away. "You act like you're working for the defense."

She flashed dark eyes. "This is what's coming, Agent DiNozzo! We need to be prepared."

He paced in front of her and pointed. "What is it with the extra suits?! What up, homies?"

"DiNozzo, sit down and shut up!" The head suit pointed at the couch.

Tony ignored them. "You want to see unstable! I'll show you unstable! You don't think he has the right to some anxiety, a little nervous energy? He has a right to a lot of damn nervous energy."

"We can't afford it," she said quietly. "The longer Watkins waits for prosecution, the more he becomes a symbol of something dark and evil and appealing to certain elements out there. We need to get him out of the papers and put him in a hole. We need to turn him into a ghost. You and your partner are our best chance of that. Especially McGee. He saw everything."

"You sound like a P.R. firm."

"Maybe that's the role of a federal prosecutor in today's media saturated world."

Tony relaxed. She was merely focused on an outcome they both desired. He turned his attention to the suits. "I see one guy to make my lunch and another guy to clean up after me. What the third guy for? Going to wipe my ass for me."

"Oh for the love of God, DiNozzo!" The head suit said. "Are we going to have that kind of day?"

"Talk to me and I'll spare your lives," he growled in his Mad Max imitation.

"There was an incident."

"What happened?!"

"Fornell is on his way over."

"Come on, guys. Use your words. Tell Uncle Tony what's going on. Either that or I make everyone work for their pay, and you know I can do it."

"Grow up, DiNozzo!"

"Hey, I warned you. You want the full DiNozzo? You got him." He headed for the front door, and the suits tumbled over one another trying to beat him to it. He stepped back at the last minute, and let them tumble into the door. He started toward the back door when there was a sharp knock behind him and guns were drawn as the agents converged on the visitor.

The head suit relaxed when he saw Fornell's bald head through the peephole. Fornell came in, took one look at his disheveled agents, and shook his head. "I told you not to get him in a lather."

"We didn't say anything."

"Exactly. You probably all just stood around like a bunch of idiots, and that told him everything he needed to know. All right, DiNozzo. Let's go."

Tony grabbed his coat. "What's going on?"

"I'll tell you in the car." Fornell pointed at the three agents. "You're in the tail car. See if you can keep up."

…..

Fornell kept his eyes on the road as he spoke. "Abby was attacked last night."

"What?!"

Fornell caught his eye quickly. "She's okay. A little bruised, nothing more."

"What happened?"

"A lone assailant followed her out of the Navy yard to a gas station. He tried to force her into his car. She put up quite a fight. A couple of Marines were gassing up their car at the station and they got involved. Vance sent a team right away. They found personal information about Abby in his car as well as McGee's address. Vance has had him in interrogation since midnight. Apparently, there is a hefty sum on McGee's head, and this guy thought Abby would be leverage."

"Shit! Does McGee know?"

Fornell snorted and shook his head. "I thought for sure you were going to be the problem, but that little geek has been one enormous migraine. We don't know how but apparently, he's been monitoring his details' communications. He got wind of the attack this morning. Was a little more proactive than you. Handcuffed one member of his detail to the radiator pipes, got out of the safe house while the other one was sleeping, and stole an agent's car."

"My probie went Rambo."

Fornell rolled his eyes. "This is why you're with me. Where would he go?"

"Does Gibbs know?"

"He and Ziva were in Ohio providing support on the Felicia Jones' killing. They caught a transport when I told them about Abby. They should be at NCIS by now. I was surprised at the lack of reaction to the McGee's gone AWOL phone call from Jethro."

"You got problems, Fornell." DiNozzo smiled.

"What are you grinning about? He could be anywhere."

"Where's Abby?"

"She was seen at Bethesda and taken back to NCIS. She apparently feels safest in her lab."

"Let's go see her."

"You think she knows where he is?"

"That's where we start."

….

They found a bedraggled Ziva in the bullpen. Tony grinned. "You've been working hard, my little vixen."

"And you've been sitting on your behind for two weeks," she scowled, her long hair loosely captured in a braid.

"Hey Boss!"

Gibbs showed up with four coffees. He handed one to Ziva and one to Fornell. Tony reached for one, but Gibbs slapped his hand away. "You haven't worked for it."

"McGee is missing!" Fornell exclaimed.

"How's Abby?" Tony asked, rubbing his slapped hand.

"Just got here. So let's go see her." Gibbs took the extra coffee with him. The team and Fornell trailed after him. The guards at the door to her lab relaxed when they saw Gibbs and they let them through.

"Gibbs!" Abby came running from her office. He had to hold his coffees high to avoid the collision with her body. He let her hug him for a long moment and then wriggled out of her grasp.

"Let's get a look at you." He put the coffees down, and looked at a bruise on her temple and the bruises on her wrists where the perp had wrestled with her. He shook his head. "We were stupid to not put protection on you. You got lucky, Abby."

"I'm okay," she mumbled as Ziva hugged her and Tony kissed her on the forehead.

"Ziva and I have spent the last two weeks looking deep into the Neo-Nazi culture. The only thing working in your favor last night was that most of these guys are uneducated thugs with very little discipline, but there are too many of these guys out there right now waiting to prove themselves to bastards like Watkins."

"Where is the little punk that touched you?" DiNozzo asked. "I want a piece of him."

Gibbs shook his head. "Vance dissected him hours ago. Then he got him out of here before we arrived. Seems he doesn't trust any of us in a room with him."

"That's a damn shame," Tony said.

"Okay, does anyone care about McGee?!" Fornell shouted.

"Abbs," Tony said. "Fornell is worried about McGee."

She bit her lip. "The FBI can't have him back. They weren't nice to him at all."

"Don't worry, Abbs. We'll take over." Gibbs took the extra coffee and went into her back office. "McGee, I figure you're back here somewhere. I got coffee, even put cream in it."

"He's here!?" Fornell blinked.

McGee followed Gibbs out of the back office.

Fornell threw his hands up. "You all knew!"

Tony sighed. "Abby was in danger. It wasn't a big leap to figure out where he'd go."

McGee handed Fornell a set of keys. "I borrowed Agent Stern's car."

Fornell snorted. "Yeah, we like to call that grand theft auto."

McGee shrugged. "I had to be here."

"Come on, McGee. We're going to leave for 6th District Court in Cincinnati tomorrow."

McGee shook his head. "Not going with you back to that safehouse."

"Don't make me arrest you or DiNozzo as material witnesses. I'll do it in a heartbeat."

Gibbs stepped up. "Come on, Tobias. They've been isolated long enough. They'll stay here, and we'll take a Navy transport. Ziva and I are part of the detail now. We'll even find a seat for you."

"The prosecutor is going to have a fit."

"She treats me like a liability," McGee said darkly.

"She's just trying to prepare you for what the defense will throw at you, Tim," Fornell said.

"I know that they're going to say that I'm unstable, a bad agent, but it's not going to break me. I'm part of team Gibbs. We don't fold for anyone."

Tony grinned. "What you're hearing right here is all a product of my years of tutelage."

Ziva rolled her eyes. "Just as I was getting ready to say how much I missed both of you, and you have to go and act like…yourself."

Tony winked. "Missed you too, sweet cheeks."

"Tobias, do what you gotta do. Bring in the prosecutor if you want. My guys need a little shot of family before we head to Ohio. We won't discuss the case. I'll make sure."

Fornell glared at him. "No leaving the building."

"You have my word, Tobias."

…

"Let's play again," Tony said rubbing his hands together. It was late and the evidence garage was largely empty and dimly lit. A game of Monopoly lay out on a table in front of him.

Abby lounged on a sofa they'd dragged out of evidence from a long ago case, her long legs draped across McGee's lap. "I don't know. You've won three times in a row."

"He cheats," Ziva proclaimed as she rolled away from the table in Ducky's office chair. She stopped at a table and pulled apart a piece of congealing cheese pizza.

"I don't cheat. I'm just ruthless."

"That's enough for me, Gordon Gecko," McGee said as he rested his head on the back of the sofa.

"A movie reference! McEbert! Who would've thunk?"

McGee smiled slowly, his eyes drowsy.

"Admit it. You fear the DiNozzo."

"I admit nothing."

Abby sat up, pulled her legs under her, and leaned against McGee. "It's been a long time since the four of us hung out like this. We need to do this more."

"I agree," Ziva said as she licked pizza sauce off her fingers. "Let's get a cabin in the mountains sometime this summer. We can hike and swim. It will be fun."

"I'd prefer a beach in Aruba with a native beauty—" Tony grunted as a slice of cold pizza landed on his face. "Actually, I think a cabin in the mountains would be a great idea."

"Glad to hear it," Ziva said as she strolled over with a napkin and took his face in her hands, carefully wiping grease and sauce off him.

"I'm nervous."

"We can't talk about the case, Timmy," Abby said lifting her head from his shoulder.

"I'm not talking about the case. I'm talking about being nervous."

Tony looked at him. "It's a mission like any other. Remember when we went to Somalia. We knew what we were risking, but neither one of us hesitated."

McGee nodded. "In some ways that was easier. If it's a matter of risking my life for any of us, you just tell me where to go and I'm there, but this is about having my life, my competence, dismantled in front of everyone. I don't like it."

"We've all been challenged on the stand. This is no different," Ziva said as she leaned forward, her face in her palms.

"What if there's some truth—"

"Don't!"

Everyone turned to find Gibbs standing there in a sweatshirt and jeans. "Rule #49. Never second guess yourself."

Abby looked at Ziva, eyes wide. "A new rule!"

Gibbs walked up to McGee. "Nobody can go back and know exactly what you faced. Not even you. The only thing we can do is trust that you did the best you could with what you had in front of you. I've known you ten years. I have complete faith that that is exactly what happened."

"You hear that, Probie. That echoes my sentiments exactly," Tony said.

"I can see why people could call me erratic."

"No, you were challenged," Gibbs said, shaking his head. "And each time you met the challenge with decisive action. I understand that the prosecutor is trying to prepare you, but don't let her get into your head. You need to be confident up there. Some goes for you, DiNozzo."

"Thanks Boss."

"Any more of that pizza left?"

Ziva wheeled over to the table, and Tony pushed a chair toward Gibbs. He sat down and took a slice from Ziva. "Looks like you're having an all-nighter."

"What did you work out with Fornell?"

"Once the plane lands in Cincinnati, the two of you are separated until after you testify. We'll be in the same hotel, different floors. Ziva is in charge of McGee's detail. I have yours. Unfortunately, that's where the good news ends. Ohio wants a piece of this so each detail will get three state troopers and the FBI will make up the rest."

Ziva stomped her foot. "I should be allowed to pick my own team."

"Politics."

"I don't like it!"

Gibbs sighed. "I have the names of everyone. Balboa's team is running deep background on all of them. It's the best we can do. Fornell handpicked his team and he's feeling pretty confident."

McGee nodded. "It's good enough for me."

Tony shrugged. "I guess we don't have a choice."

They were all silent until Gibbs gestured at the table. "DiNozzo wipe the floor with all of you?"

"Yeah, these guys won't play with me anymore."

"I wouldn't either. What else can we do?" Gibbs took a bite of pizza and then he smiled. "Let's tell stories. How about everyone tell the moment you knew that NCIS was the right place for you?"

"Oh! Oh! Oh!" Abby's hand shot up. "I have a story about that! It involves maggots and rotting flesh and there is all sorts of grimy stuff in it. You're going to love it."

McGee screwed up his face.

Gibbs chuckled. "All right, Abbs. You start."

Tony looked at McGee and pointed. He mouthed the words, "I have your six always." McGee caught his eye and nodded. "Same here," he mouthed.

…

Tony was fascinated with her. She was an ice blonde in every way possible. Her white blonde hair was tied back in a severe, lacquered bun, and her face was a perfect symmetry of lines: long, thin nose, ice blue eyes, and ruby lips. She was so perfect, in fact, that she wasn't even pretty. There was no character to her features, no soul in her eyes. The word Aryan had popped into his head during the second hour of questioning on the stand, and while he knew she probably wasn't a Nazi like her client, he couldn't shake the connotation.

She wore a light gray suit with a white silk blouse, and he figured her to be a perfect size 4. Her questions were sharp and well researched. She jabbed and poked at him, and he had to do his best to maintain the DiNozzo charm. The questions of the last fifteen minutes had become especially difficult.

"So essentially, Agent DiNozzo, you saw very little of what happened at the gas station."

"I saw three men in two cars. A man I later identified as Karl Dunn approached me with a question. I was then shot from a man coming around to my right."

"But you don't know who this was."

"It was one of the men who kidnapped myself and my partner."

"Yes," she said nodding slowly. "Did you know that it is generally the people's strategy to put their strongest witnesses up first? What's interesting to me is that your partner, Agent McGee, saw a great deal more than you did, and yet he's not scheduled to testify first. I find that fascinating. Don't you?"

"Not at all."

"You're not curious about that?" She said, taking a moment to meet the eyes of all jury members.

"I'm a cop not a lawyer."

"Do you think it might have something to do with Agent McGee's mental and emotional state?"

"Objection!" The prosecutor was on her feet. "Defense is making unfounded allegations."

"Sustained," said the judge.

"These concerns are founded, aren't they? And not just from the time you were in contact with Watkins. Didn't your partner actually assault you just days before the two of you went to Ohio to pick up my client?"

"Objection! Irrelevant."

"Your honor," said the ice queen. "These issues are in evidence and they speak to Agent McGee's credibility."

The judge looked at the prosecutor. "I'll allow it."

She turned back to him. "He assaulted you."

DiNozzo glared at her. "He punched me in the face and I deserved it."

"Really? This is the norm at NCIS for resolving disputes."

"No, it's not."

"Has he punched you before?"

"No."

"You told the director of NCIS, Leon Vance, that he punched you because he was under a great of stress."

"We both were."

"So you must have punched him back."

"No, I did not," Tony said slowly.

"Then you were under less stress."

"I didn't punch him back because I knew I was wrong!"

"You travelled to Ohio together despite your bad blood."

"We were working it out." Tony couldn't keep the edge out of his voice.

"His erratic behavior didn't stop there. In fact at the gas station, after you were shot, he put down his gun in direct violation of federal law enforcement protocol."

"There were extenuating circumstances."

"And it didn't stop there, did it? Your partner was able to escape his captors unlike you or my client who was also kidnapped."

DiNozzo shook his head, his hands shaking. He looked past her to the back of the courtroom and found Gibbs standing there. The boss was shaking his head slowly. Tony knew how crucial it was that he kept his temper. The rest of his detail was there including three members of the Ohio state police. He didn't know them well; they were quiet and efficient. One of them was rubbing his torso right below his sternum and Tony frowned.

"Agent DiNozzo, can you focus please? Agent McGee's erratic behavior didn't stop there, did it?"

"He wasn't erratic."

She ignored him and addressed the jury. "Isn't it true that he escaped his captors leaving you behind? He then went to a farmhouse where he assaulted an elderly man and stole his shotgun. Instead of waiting for backup, he proceeded back to the house where he was held captive, and ran a stolen car into a vehicle filled with men. When the men tried to escape, he began shooting. He shot one man in the back before FBI agents were able to subdue him. In fact, he was the most dangerous threat at that house."

Tony glared at her. "He was trying to rescue me."

"Wouldn't it have been protocol to wait for backup?"

"Yes," he said wearily. "It would've been protocol."

"It's also true that when you were in the hospital recovering from surgery, he had a psychotic break and needed to be transported to Bethesda Naval hospital for psychiatric treatment."

"I'm not a psychiatrist."

"Later, when you were both in protective custody, he overpowered an agent from his detail, stole a car, and took off. He has a penchant for stealing cars. Agent DiNozzo, you have to admit that your partner is not a stable man. He is certainly not a credible witness."

Tony was on his feet.

"Agent DiNozzo! Sit down!" barked the judge.

He did but struggled to steady his breathing. "My partner, Agent McGee, is the most stable, rational person I know. He handled situations no one should have to face with courage and honor. This is a character assassination!"

"Objection!" Shouted the ice queen.

"Sustained. Agent, you will limit your responses to the questions."

"Yes, your honor."

The defense attorney gave him the hint of a smile before turning to the judge. "I have no more questions. It's clear to everyone here that loyalty to some people is worth more than good common sense."

…

"That was ridiculous, Boss."

"Do me a favor and shut up until I can get you in a car," Gibbs murmured as he pushed DiNozzo down the courthouse hallways, state troopers on either side of them.

Gibbs kept one hand in this middle of his back as he spoke into a transmitter. "We're at the steps, Tobias. Coming out in 3. I, 2, 3."

"Come on. I testified. No one wants to shoot me now."

Gibbs ignored him, scanning the people across the street as he hustled him down the stairs. He raised his wrist again. "Open the door. We're here."

The door to a black town car opened, and Gibbs pushed him in hard, piling in after. He slapped the headrest of the driver's seat and the agent put the car into drive. Tony relaxed into the seat. "That was a mess. Why the hell didn't the prosecutor stand up and give me a chance to rebut that crap at the end?"

"She didn't need to. You were very effective." Gibbs was looking out the back window.

"You think so."

Gibbs nodded. "You did good, Tony."

"She's going to go after McGee hard tomorrow."

"Yeah, I know. I'll be there."

"I wish I could."

Satisfied that their departure had gone smoothly, Gibbs settled into his seat. "I can't wait until this is over."

"I should've said more."

"You said exactly what was needed."

Tony frowned. "Where are the state troopers?"

"Behind us."

"Are we sure about those guys?"

"Balboa vetted them himself. They're clean."

"One of them was itchy."

"Oh, please DiNozzo. They're fine."

"Yeah, you're right. I'm just so glad it's over."

"Two more days and we're out of here."

…

"Hey McGee, you've been staring at the same page in that book for ten minutes."

He looked up to find her leaning against the bedroom door to his suite. "I just want this to be over with."

"I know."

He closed the book in his lap. "I want to go back to work. I want the long hours and the zero appreciation. I want Gibbs to come in and glare at me because I haven't figured out a suspect's financials in thirty minutes or failed to hack into the Pentagon in an hour. I want to roll my eyes at Tony, and I want to hear the endless variations on my name he'll create. I want to look over at your desk and have you smile back at me even at the end of a 16 hour day."

She smiled. "Is next week soon enough for all that?"

"I keep thinking that Vance is going to spring an extra psych eval on me or I'm going to find out that Tony, in the back of his mind, really can't trust me."

She came over and sat next to him on the bed. "Stop it. We're a team. Gibbs was right. We're only magic when we're all together. How do you say it? The whole is greater than the sum of its parts."

He nodded. "You know I'm weirdly at peace about tomorrow. I really did the best I could with what was in front of me. I'm not going to apologize for it anymore."

She squeezed his hand. "You're a good guy, McGee, but more than that, you're a good partner. I know I'm safe when you're on my six."

"Thanks."

"I was going to tell you that I didn't hear you have any nightmares last night."

He nodded. "I'm getting better, Ziva."

"Special Agent David."

Ziva looked up to find a state trooper in the doorway. "We have a bit of an issue."

She was off the bed, her hand on her gun. "What is it?"

"Ah, it's a little embarrassing. Trooper Russell is sick. He's vomiting in the bathroom as we speak. He said his little girl had the flu a couple of weeks ago or maybe it's food poisoning. I don't know."

"What did he eat?" She looked back at McGee.

"He had bacon and eggs this morning down in the café. He didn't eat anything in the room. I think we should send him home."

"Until McGee testifies, I want a full complement on his detail."

"Yeah, and I know you don't want anyone new, but Agent DiNozzo is finished testifying which lowers his threat status. We could borrow someone from his detail."

"You can recommend someone?"

"Morris is willing. I just talked to them."

"That wasn't your call to make. I choose who comes on this detail."

"I apologize, Special Agent David." The tone in his voice suggested something else.

"Bring him over and I'll talk to him."

"Of course." The trooper turned and left. Ziva turned and rolled her eyes at McGee. He smiled and opened his book again.

…

"Where are the troopers from the courtroom?"

"Enough with the troopers already," Gibbs said over his shoulder as he grabbed a water from the hotel room refrigerator.

"What's his problem?" Tobias was eating a cheeseburger.

Gibbs stood and looked at DiNozzo. "I don't know. What is your problem with the troopers? You said one of them was itchy."

Tony pulled his tie off and loosened his shirt. "One of them was rubbing his gut at the courtroom."

Fornell screwed up his face. "So what?"

Tony sighed. "It reminded me of something."

"What?"

He looked at Gibbs. "McGee. You know, how he was always touching that scar. It was almost in the same place."

"Tony, you were half a courtroom away."

"I watch too much History channel. The Waffen SS used to show pride in their scars. They would create them as signs of courage. Some units created their own symbols that they carved into their skin."

Fornell put down his burger. "You think we have a Nazi on your protection detail."

"McGee was always running his fingers over the scar. For him, it was a reminder of the trauma. For others, it might be a reminder of the challenge ahead."

Fornell blinked and looked at Gibbs. "Please don't ask me to strip search a platoon of state troopers."

"I don't know." Gibbs stared at DiNozzo.

The guy that attacked Abby was from Ohio, right? Did he having any mutilation on his gut? I mean maybe- it's a long shot."

Fornell reached for his phone. "Hey Olson, pull up the file on that whackjob that attacked Abby Scuito. Did he have any scars?"

He listened for a moment and then slowly put down the phone. "The guy has an SS lightning bolt on his gut. Said it was from an initiation."

Gibbs headed for the door and opened it. "Get in here."

Two troopers came in. Was it one of these guys?"

Tony shook his head. "There was a third guy. Where is he?"

"That's Morris. Apparently, they needed another guy on Agent McGee's detail. He left about half an hour ago."

Tony pushed past them and started running down the hall. Gibbs and Fornell followed. He got to the elevators and turned around. "Where the hell is his room?"

Gibbs opened the door to the stairs and went up. Two floors later, they burst out into the hallway. The troopers on McGee's door trained guns on them. Fornell put up his hands. "This is Agent Fornell. Just need to check on some things."

They lowered their guns. Gibbs stepped forward. "Which one of you is Morris?"

One of them gestured at the door. "He's inside the room."

"We need to talk to him."

Ziva opened the door. "What's going on?"

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah."

"Can you send out Officer Morris for a minute?"

She gestured at him and then followed him out. Trooper Morris was holding his gun. Gibbs shook his head at Ziva. "You stay in there with McGee."

She withdrew. Morris frowned at the assembled. "What's going on? Is this about changing duty? One of the guys got sick, and since DiNozzo is done testifying, we thought it would be okay."

"Yeah," said one of the other troopers. "Agent David okayed it."

Gibbs ignored him. "Trooper, do us a favor and open your shirt."

"What?"

"Just need to see that you're clear for bugs."

"What the hell? Hey Jones, call our supervisor. These guys want to strip search me."

"Just need you to unbutton your shirt."

"I'm not doing it. You feds got some nerve." Morris tensed.

"That's okay," Tony said smoothly. "We don't need your permission. I'll do it for you."

Trooper Jones shook his head. "Hey fellas, this is getting weird. Maybe we oughta' get the supervisor on the phone."

Fornell turned to him. "Do it!"

In that moment, Morris turned and ran. He figured Fornell for an easy obstacle, but the older man put his full weight into Morris slamming him into the wall. DiNozzo tackled him to the ground and straddled him. Gibbs pulled his arms back while Tony pulled up his shirt. He sucked in breath at the sight of an ugly SS lightning bolt on the man's torso. "Oh my God!"

Gibbs pulled his phone. "Ziva, we have a threat out in the hall. Keep your eye on McGee and get ready to move…It's Trooper Morris. Keep the door locked and stand by."

Trooper Jones looked over Gibbs' shoulder, mouth open. "Holy shit!"

"Get his weapons, DiNozzo," said Fornell grunting as he held down the man's legs.

"I got a gun and a knife. Anything else, Morris?" Tony grabbed his face. "It's over, man."

Morris looked up at him. "It ain't even begun, brother."

Tony's eyes met Gibbs. "Bomb?"

Gibbs opened his phone. "Bomb! Get-"

It felt like a freight train tearing through the hallway, throwing all of them into the air.

…


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: It's done! I so hope you like it. Sheila

Letting Go

Chapter 9

Tony lifted his head to a blackness that stole more than his sight. His chest constricted and he realized it was smoke. Dirt and other particles clung to his hair and face, and he had to pull debris from his mouth. Around him he heard groans, and as his mind cleared, he realized he was lying on top of a person. He looked into the haze. "Boss!"

Legs shifted beneath him, and he found a shoulder. "Boss."

He was met with a groan. He felt for a face and found a head with little hair. He nodded. Fornell. He patted the man's face, but he got nothing coherent. At least the man was breathing.

He crawled past him, unsure of where he was or which direction he should travel. "Boss!"

He hugged a wall and kept moving. The smoke was thicker and he saw an eerie glow in the distance. His throat and nose were thick, and he coughed wildly. Then a hand gripped his forearm. "Boss?"

He tumbled toward the hand and found Gibbs lying sidelong. There was blood on his face, but DiNozzo couldn't see well enough to know how bad it was. "You okay?"

Gibbs breathed in huffs. "Get…help."

Tony nodded. "Light…this way."

Hand gripped him again. "Fire!"

Tony struggled to sit up. Gibbs pulled him down. "Go…away from flame."

Tony's responsibilities widened. He grabbed the front of Gibbs' shirt and tried to pull him up. "Can you walk, Boss?"

Gibbs slapped at him. "Go! Get help."

Tony's world began to spiral. He had Gibbs here and Fornell. In the direction of the fire was certainly where they would find McGee and Ziva and there were others. It seemed counter to everything he knew to crawl away from them all. If his experience in Baltimore had taught him anything, it was to never leave anyone behind.

Suddenly, there were shouts, and giant men were outlined in the distance. Tony sagged against Gibbs. They breathed like aliens, but Tony recognized the distinctive outline of firefighters. One of them leaned over with a flashlight while another one hooked him under his arms. He started to tell them what was happening, but they ignored him, hustling him down a hallway. They opened a door to the stairs and settled him on the stairs while they went back to grab the others. He coughed roughly into the concrete, and then another firefighter was there, shoving a mask over his face. He wrestled with him for a moment, but then gave in to the richness of the oxygen.

Seconds later, Gibbs was dragged into the stairwell and then Fornell. Tony's head began to clear and he pulled the mask off. "There are three troopers in the hallway, and two agents in a room! One of the troopers is the bomber!"

The firefighters ignored him as they tended to Fornell and Gibbs. Law enforcement wasn't priority for the firefighters. They were only interested in getting everyone out of there. They were laying Gibbs on a stretcher when Tony lurched past them and back into the hallway. The smoke was wet as fire hoses sprayed the walls around him. Arms grabbed at him, but he pulled toward the door to the suite. One firefighter cornered him and he pantomimed two people and pointed in the door. The firefighter nodded. The door to the suite was wrecked and Tony merely had to kick at the twisted metal to make a large enough space for him. Inside the room, it was eerily quiet. A small fire burned next to a window and another one near the bar. Otherwise, there was little sense as what would have passed for furniture anywhere. "McGee! Ziva!"

Behind him, a hose erupted at the two fires and someone put an ax through the windowpane. Crouched and coughing, Tony hugged a wall as he searched for signs of his friends. A firefighter grabbed at him again, but Tony kicked him away. Then he held up two fingers. The firefighters seemed resigned to his presence at this point. The bedroom doors were open, but Tony could see nothing but smoke. There were more sounds of glass breaking as firefighters continued to liberate windows.

Then there were shouts from one of the bedrooms, and Tony stumbled forward. He got to the doorway, and saw a firefighter pulling Ziva up from behind a bed. He lifted her like a limp doll and he gripped the doorframe. "Ziva!"

Another firefighter was dragging McGee's body out as well, and Tony's knees buckled beneath him as the blackness took him again.

….

He woke up coughing, every hack burning his raw throat. The walls were white, and he couldn't place his surroundings. He was hooked up to oxygen and started wrestling with the tubes. An IV got in the way, and he ripped at it, but hands caught his. "Hey, hey DiNozzo! Simmer down."

He looked up and saw Fornell, his face riddled with cuts and bruises. His breathing slowed and his eyes scanned the room. There was another curtain and he raised his head. Fornell nodded. "Yup. Gibbs is getting a little rest. Broke his shoulder. They had to do a little surgery on him. He's still out."

Tony lay back and looked at the ceiling, and then his teammates' faces popped into his head. He lurched forward and began warring with his IV. Fornell grabbed his hands again. "Listen, you stubborn fool! Everyone is going to be fine. Truth is that you're in the worst shape of all of us. Smoke inhalation. You can die from that, ya' idiot. You must've thought the firefighters were too stupid to notice your teammates. They train for this shit, you know."

Tony watched him intently.

"Ziva and McGee pinpointed Morris' backpack the moment Gibbs told them he was the assassin. Ziva had hustled McGee into the bedroom and they were taking up position behind the bed when the bomb blew. Ziva and McGee both have concussions as well as some cuts and bruises, but all of you are going to make it."

He relaxed his hands and let them drop to his sides. His eyes grew heavy and he closed them.

…..

"I don't think it's reasonable at all!"

"I can do this!"

"I'm thinking Duck is right on this one, McGee. Tobias, I can't believe you'd pull a stunt like this."

"Really? It will probably take three months to get this back on the court calendar. You think McGee will last that long? Please! I had to run herd over his detail for only two weeks and you remember how that went. Someone's bound to kill him and it might not be a Nazi."

"I'm not going back into protection!"

"Like I would give you a choice."

Tony blinked his eyes and lifted his head. He pulled off the oxygen mask, and then he clawed at the curtain separating him from the voices.

"He's awake!" Ziva was the first one there. There was a bandaged cut on her forehead and she had a battery of cuts on her arms and neck. She leaned over him. "Put your oxygen back on."

He batted it away. "I can breathe, Ziva."

Ducky was there. "You were a fool to risk this much smoke. Have you no memory? Your lungs are already scarred. Do you want a COPD diagnosis? It'll be the end of your career."

"What?" Tony frowned.

Duck," Gibbs limped over and put his one good hand on his shoulder. "Back off on the fear a little. He looks good."

"I'm okay, right?"

"You're going to need a few weeks of respiratory therapy and a promise to me that you'll not stay away from burning buildings."

"It wasn't exactly my choice to be in an explosion. What are you guys fighting about?"

Gibbs looked at Fornell. "We should take it outside."

"I want to know."

McGee stayed near the door, bruises and cuts stark against his pale skin. "It's a done deal, Boss. The prosecutor already worked it out with the judge."

"What's a done deal?" Tony tried to rise up on his elbows.

"We can wait a couple more days. I want to be there." Gibbs hobbled back to his bed.

McGee shook his head. "Judge says he'll declare a mistrial if testimony doesn't resume tomorrow."

"You're in no shape to handle hours of testimony," Ducky fussed. "You were in an explosion less than 24 hours ago. You have a concussion!"

"The judge says he'll allow breaks if I start to get foggy."

"And how will you explain the bruises? The jury will want to know."

McGee leaned against the wall. "We've agreed that the jury will be told I was in a car accident. They've been sequestered so they don't know about the explosion."

Gibbs looked at Fornell. "I don't like it."

"I don't either, Jethro, but we don't want a mistrial."

"And you're going to protect him? Come on, Tobias, you're just a few hours out of the hospital yourself."

"Yeah, I already had this conversation with your director. We're all taking this craziness very seriously. Ohio state patrol and all other locals have been kicked off this detail. I got a squad of terrorist guys from my director going over the courthouse as we speak. Plus, we flew in the best the U.S. Marshal Service has to offer, and I don't mean a couple of guys. We got no less than ten of the best outside this hospital room right now. They're going to take him and disappear. He's not going to be on anyone's radar until court tomorrow."

"And you're telling me that Vance okayed this?"

"I talked to him over MTAC and I'm telling you that the veins in Vance's forehead are getting a workout. He and the FBI director and the director of the Marshal Service have been in conversation. Hell, Jethro, I must've argued with 35 people today so give me a damn break!"

Gibbs slapped the nightstand. "He should be with us!"

"Ain't none of you in fighting shape? Wish him the best. I'm going to watch him like he was my own."

"It's okay, Boss." The look on his face suggested anything but.

"I want to see who's in charge of this detail."

Fornell nodded. "Yeah, I thought so. Hold on a minute."

He returned a moment later with a beefy man with a crew cut and a boxer's nose. The man nodded at Gibbs and spoke with a deep Southern drawl. "I'm Deputy U.S. Marshal Parker. I'll be taking care of your man."

It was too awkward to shake hands with his right shoulder trussed up and so Gibbs fixed eyes on him. "You're taking one of mine, and I remember names and faces."

Parker grinned. "With a greeting like that, you gotta be Corps."

"Gunnery Sergeant. Gulf War. You?"

"Special Ops. Iraq and Afghanistan. Four tours in total."

Gibbs stared at him another moment, and then he turned his attention to McGee. "You do whatever this man tells you. You hear me?!"

McGee nodded. Ziva hurried over. "I will go along to make sure."

Parker shook his head. "Sorry, Ma'am. Logistics only allow for agent Fornell."

McGee gave her a squeeze. "You saved my life yesterday. Let's give this guy a turn."

"Tim."

McGee looked at Tony. "I got this, partner. If I get stuck, I'll just imagine what you would do…"

Tony grinned and pointed. "And then do the opposite. See, I knew you were going to say that."

"I'll make you proud, Tony. You too, Boss." McGee didn't wait for a response. He slipped out the door and Parker followed.

Fornell looked at Gibbs. "Like he's my own."

Then he was gone too.

…..

McGee stared down at the huge rack of baby ribs straining the confines of a Styrofoam container.

"Come on, McGee. I swear these are the best ribs I've ever eaten." Fornell wiped sauce off his face.

McGee looked around the cabin of the plane, shades on all the windows pulled. "Are we really in Memphis?"

"That's my best guess. I know he headquarters out of Memphis, and I would imagine this food is from his favorite joint."

"So we're just going to sit on the tarmac until morning and then fly back to Cincinnati?"

Fornell nodded. "Kind of brilliant actually."

"That's a lot of gas."

"You let us worry about the expenses. You don't like your barbeque?"

McGee shrugged. "My head is pounding, and my gut is definitely not interested in greasy ribs."

"You are missing out, my friend. You need to eat. Take a piece of toast. I got people to answer to, McGee. You worried about tomorrow?"

"I've been on the stand before. Prosecutors have said that I get a little robotic though. Stiff."

Fornell thought for a moment. "Yeah, I can see that. Don't worry about that tomorrow. Don't try to guess what she's up to. Just be you. She's going to try and rattle you. Being robotic might not be a bad thing."

McGee grinned. "You don't think I could raise the shade just a little? See if I recognize the airport?"

A dark sleepy head rose up two seats back. "You do that, son, and I'll handcuff you to your seat until mornin'."

McGee's eyes widened. "Got it, sir."

"You got a nice bunk there. I would advise you to lie down and get some sleep."

"Yes sir."

Fornell chuckled. "And you thought Gibbs could bust balls."

….

"You sure you don't want another break?"

McGee sighed. "No ma'am."

"You've already had two today. That accident must've really taken a lot out of you."

McGee said nothing. His head hurt and there were times when her perfect face had started to blur.

"Agent McGee?"

"I don't believe you had a question, ma'am. It sounded like an observation."

"Ah yes," she gave the jury a look. "You and accidents…or mishaps. You have a lot of them, correct?"

"No ma'am."

"I could count them. For instance, there was the moment you put down your gun at the gas station."

McGee cocked his head but said nothing.

"No comment."

"Again ma'am, I didn't hear a question."

"That was a mistake, wasn't it?"

McGee swallowed. His answers needed to be short and succinct. "I wouldn't characterize that as a mistake, an accident, or a mishap."

"You wouldn't? Agent McGee, was that correct protocol?"

"No ma'am."

"Then it was an incorrect action- a mistake."

McGee shifted in his seat. Her face was blurring for him again. "No, ma'am, it was a decision. There is no protocol that covers all situations."

"And shooting a man in the back?"

McGee narrowed his eyes. "A dangerous perpetrator was fleeing the scene and I fired."

"With a rifle you stole from an old farmer whom you assaulted, correct?"

McGee leaned forward. "No ma'am. It was a shotgun."

"You assaulted a farmer and stole his shotgun, correct?"

"No ma'am. I took a shotgun from a farmer and returned to rescue my partner. Local authorities returned the shotgun with an apology as I was unable to do so. The farmer was not harmed."

"Why were you in the hospital?"

"Well, I was kidnapped. During that time, I was beaten and cut repeatedly with a knife. I needed hospital care."

"What about your emotional well being?"

"You are wondering about my ten days at the Bethesda Naval Post Traumatic Stress Unit?"

"You had a breakdown, Agent McGee, didn't you?"

He shook his head. "I don't really know what constitutes a breakdown, ma'am."

She sighed. "You were mentally incapacitated, correct?"

"I am still not sure what that means."

She tossed her head and headed for the bench. "Your honor, permission to treat this witness as hostile."

"Objection. She is asking the witness to comment on conditions of which he has no expertise."

"Sustained. Counselor, I believe that Agent McGee is answering your questions to the best of his ability."

"He's being evasive, your honor."

The prosecutor stepped forward. "He's being precise."

The judge looked over at McGee. "It's 3 p.m., Agent. Considering your recent accident, I think we'll stop for the day so you can get some rest."

McGee wanted to protest. He was desperate for the whole thing to be over. He caught Fornell's eye but the older man shook his head.

…..

The U.S. Marshal led Gibbs to an empty office in the hospital. There was a plasma screen, and the marshal explained directions and closed the door behind him. Gibbs hit some keys and Fornell's face came up on the screen. "Tobias, you sure this is secure?"

"The marshals know what they're doing. How are you doing?"

Gibbs' face was still pinched with the pain of his broken shoulder, but he shrugged. "I'm doing. How's McGee? I tried to get to the courthouse today, but everyone here had a fit. I'm going tomorrow with or without permission."

"The kid did good, Jethro. You would've been proud. He stayed even, stuck to short responses, and she couldn't trap him."

Gibbs nodded. "That's a good job."

"He did good, but we're having a little problem now and I think we need your help."

"Tell me."

"McGee's a bundle of anxiety. He needs to rest. Testimony wore him out, but he's perseverating—"

"What are you? A psychologist? What does perseverating mean?"

"You know, he's worried, anxious. He's pacing all over the place and over-thinking things. He thinks he lied on the stand because he said putting down his gun wasn't a mistake. He's overtired and I can't seem to calm him down. He needs to hear from his dear old dad. Can you talk to him?"

Gibbs had to resist the urge to smile at the parent reference. "Bring him in."

McGee came into the room and Fornell whispered something to him and left the room. Gibbs could see the worry in his agent's eyes. He knew this McGee. This was the guy that would work 36 hours straight on something that might usually take three people to complete and then worry he should've done it in 30. McGee got like this when he was too tired. At times like this, he was incapable of seeing the accomplishment in his work.

McGee leaned over the screen but didn't sit. "Hi Boss! How you doing? That shoulder looks pretty beat up. Remember when you injured it pushing me out of the way of a car. Probably hurts quite a bit. Should you be up?"

"Sit down, McGee."

McGee dropped into the chair.

"You're the one that needs to be resting. If Ducky found you bouncing around like that, he'd shut this whole thing down. Now, what's got you so worried?"

McGee stared into the camera. "I don't like some of my answers from today."

"Tobias says you knocked it out of the park."

"I don't think I was credible, Boss. I said putting down the gun wasn't a mistake. I said it was a decision made in a moment that can't be planned for. Who says that? I think the jury sees me as some kind of whack job."

"Tim, if anyone thought you were a whack job, Fornell would've been briefing me on that and we'd be having a much different conversation. Instead, he's telling me that you're the best thing since sliced bread."

"But I keep going over it in my head-"

"Stop! You and that damn brain. Stop replaying it. It's done. Move forward."

"Really?"

"Look at me, Tim. Did you do the best you could back at that gas station?"

"Yeah."

"Then you move on. She's trying to rattle you and you're letting her. Knock it off already."

"Yeah."

"I'm going to be there tomorrow."

McGee shook his head. "Ah Boss, you're all banged up. Stay in bed. Fornell's been a big help."

"No way. Someone from your team is going to be there. Tony can't go because he was a witness, but he was restless as all hell today, worrying about you. It'll help him relax to know someone is there. Besides, being his roommate is no picnic. I could use the break. I'm coming no matter what you say."

McGee nodded. "Get some rest and say hi to everyone from me."

"You too. You look like crap. I expect to see you rested tomorrow. You hear me?"

"Yeah."

….

Gibbs walked back into the room to find Tony breathing through a nebulizer, Ziva hovering over him. Tony saw Gibbs and pushed the mouthpiece off. "How's he doing?"

"He's good."

"That doesn't tell me anything," he said as Ziva tried to maneuver the mouthpiece back over his face. He pushed her away.

Gibbs shrugged. "He's McGee. He's nervous and second guessing himself, but that's…McGee."

Ziva climbed on the bed and straddled him and Tony howled. "Stop it, woman! I'm trying to listen to the boss!"

"You do not need to listen with your mouth," she said holding the mouthpiece over his face. Then she looked at Gibbs. "The respiratory therapist was here."

Ducky stepped in, saw Ziva on top of Tony, and barked, "Ziva, get off him!"

She stepped down. "He is not taking this seriously! He refused to nebulize."

"I was doing it!"

"You took off the mask three times even before Gibbs came in," she retorted. "Did you not hear the therapist?!"

Gibbs turned to Ducky. "What did the therapist say?"

"Tony is going to need to do therapy for more than a few weeks. The therapist doesn't see him progressing as he should. It's important that he take this seriously."

Gibbs turned to Tony. "You put that damn thing on and shut up."

"Someone needs to tell Ziva the truth about her nursing skills," he complained as she fit the mask over his face.

Gibbs ignored him. "What do we need to do, Duck?"

"He'll nebulize at work so we can monitor him, he'll need to do breathing exercises, and he'll need to see a therapist three times a week."

Tony started to protest but Gibbs shook his head. "You say another word, DiNozzo, and Ducky and I will give Ziva free rein over your care."

Tony lay back quietly and Ziva leaned against his bed. "The therapist says we can get him up to full health if we are consistent and aggressive."

Gibbs nodded. "We'll stay on top of it."

"McGee's okay?"

"Yeah. I'll go to court tomorrow and provide some support."

"Jethro!"

"It's a done deal, Duck. I already told the detail to set it up. You and Ziva ride herd over him, and I'll see to McGee."

For a long moment, he stared at DiNozzo. Then he pointed a finger. "You take this seriously. You hear me?"

Tony nodded slowly as he breathed in the medicated oxygen from the machine.

….

Today, McGee looked at Watkins. He wanted the anger to be more powerful than the fear, and looking at bastard in his rented suit did that for him.

"You testified yesterday that you were beaten and abused the night that you were cut. You were also drunk, correct?"

McGee blinked. "No, I was not."

She gestured with her hand. "Mr Watkins testified that your captors poured hard alcohol down your throat, and it would certainly explain your erratic behavior."

He reddened. "The man named Karl poured whiskey down my throat once. It was not enough to get me drunk."

"You were frightened, beaten, and you had been drinking. When they held you down and cut you, you struggled, correct?"

"Yes."

"Sounds chaotic. Your judgment impaired from the alcohol and the abuse. You don't really know who cut you, do you?"

The anger rose in him. Watkins sat at the table like a choirboy with his hands clasped in front of him. "I know exactly who cut me."

"That's hard to believe-"

"No, it's not!" he interrupted. "I'm a trained federal agent. I know how to stay focused. Watkins marked me with a knife in the shape of a swastika. The party was his. He was running things."

"If they held you down, how do you know who cut you? How do you know he wasn't a victim too? You went along with things to stay alive. He did the same."

"I was there! I heard him! I saw him! He is the man who cut me and directed the beatings."

She turned to the judge. "The witness has become combative. I am concerned that he is still not well. Perhaps, a recess is in order."

McGee tried to control the shaking in his hands. She was pushing for another day of testimony. She was hoping to break him.

"Agent McGee, is this a good time for a break?"

He looked for Gibbs in the courtroom and found him against the back wall. The events of the last few days had taken a toll on Gibbs. He was actually beginning to look his age. He locked eyes with him for a moment and then turned to the judge. "I'm doing fine, your honor. I would really just like to finish.

"Okay, your call. Counselor, do you have any more questions for him?"

In the last six hours, she pulled him in one direction and then other. She displayed pictures of his wound blown up for the jury and forced him to look at it. She'd continually tried to paint Watkins' experience as similar to his. Now, she was trying to portray him as a drunk. It was grueling and maddening, and his head pounded worse than he could ever remember.

She looked at him, cocking her blonde head. "You say you were not drunk despite your actions: The escape, stealing a farmer's gun, running a car truck into an SUV filled with people, and then shooting a man in the back. You had to be disarmed by FBI agents."

"I was not intoxicated."

She shook her head. "The evidence suggests otherwise."

McGee leaned forward. "Can a handcuffed, drunk man pickpocket his captor and orchestrate his own escape?"

She sighed and looked away. "Nothing more for this witness."

The judge looked at the prosecution. "Do you wish to redirect?"

"Nope," she said from her table with a satisfied grin.

"You are dismissed, Agent McGee."

He stood, holding the railing to hide his exhaustion and the pain in his head. When he got to the door, deputy U.S. Marshal Parker took his arm and hurried him from the room. Gibbs and Fornell followed.

…..

"It's nice to be out of the hospital. Of course, now we're incarcerated in a jet," said Tony as he dealt cards for another game of cribbage with Ducky.

"Just waiting for the verdict to come in." Gibbs said as he paged through a book. He glanced over at McGee who was slumped in a seat with a wet cloth across his face. "How you doing, Tim?"

"The vicodin is kicking in," he mumbled.

"You did good work today."

A grin started to grow. "Thanks Boss."

"Hey Parker, how about we go to Chicago for dinner?"

The marshal looked up from his magazine. "If we don't get a verdict in the next hour, we're going airborne. Can't promise you a location, DiNozzo."

"I never knew you guys did this with protection."

Parker sighed and marked his page. "The plane is on a tarmac and easy to protect. Cheaper than putting ten deputies in a hotel and it doesn't endanger civilians. Your Nazis like bombs. I can't imagine there's a hotel in all of Ohio that would take you Navy cops right now. Until the bad guys start using fighter jets, this is a pretty good option for short term details."

"I used to think about being a marshal," Tony said as he counted his hand and moved his peg.

"Well, that Marshal Service IQ test can be a real stumbling block for a feller like you, DiNozzo."

Everyone laughed including Tony. "You got some potential there to be a comedian, Parker."

"Naw," he drawled. "I prefer a job that's low paying with long hours and zero appreciation."

Tony smiled. "Add almost no recognition of your agency as law enforcement and you have NCIS."

"Yeah, I knew I was goin' to like you fellers. Took a lot of convincing though to get me on board. I'm mostly supervisory these days. In fact, I'd already turned down the request from the director when Lenny called and asked me to take it on as a personal favor."

Gibbs put his book down. "Who's Lenny?"

"My big brother. The ambitious one in the family."

Gibbs blinked. "Leonard Parker? That's Lieutenant General Parker, commander over at Quantico."

"Yeah, that's him."

McGee sat up and pulled the cloth off his face. "How did he know?"

"Your director called him. Seems he wanted the best and my name came up and he was pretty insistent."

"I see." Gibbs took off his reading glasses.

"Lenny says you all tried to help a girl named…Evie. He's got a soft spot for girls. He lost his own little girl to cancer when she was ten. He's taken a real interest in what happened to her, and he knows you all went the extra mile to try and help this girl. He sent me the video and everything. That right there convinced me that I needed to carve out some time for this."

Tony looked at McGee. "There was no video."

Parker could sense the tension in the room. "I don't mean to pick at a wound. Just thought you should know that people appreciated how hard you tried."

"We never knew there was a video," Gibbs said. "There were a few cell phone attempts but they were blurry at best."

"The high school is in line with a flight path to the airport. There's a satellite feed on the area at all times."

Everyone got quiet. Parker sighed. "Well, I sure killed this party."

Gibbs looked at him. "We want to see it."

"You sure?"

He looked at McGee and DiNozzo and they both nodded. Parker got up and manipulated a remote. A plasma screen came down in the cabin. It took him a couple of minutes to access his account, and then a video came. It looked straight down on McGee, Tony, and Evie.

McGee let out a breath and stood. Tony also got up. Evie stood on the ledge and DiNozzo was gesturing with his arms, moving closer bit by bit. On her blind side, McGee crept in closer. Then came a moment when the girl's body relaxed and she started to lean forward. Tony reached out a hand. The girl's foot slipped on the back of the ledge and she fell backward, McGee leaping forward.

Everyone sucked in breath. For a second it looked like McGee was going over the edge with her, but then DiNozzo was there. They battled for a few seconds and then she was gone. Tony let out a whimper and McGee covered his mouth. Gibbs signaled for Parker to shut it down. He turned to his team. "Painful to watch."

Ziva nodded as she wiped at tears.

"How does this help us?" Gibbs watched McGee and Tony closely.

McGee looked at Tony. "We did absolutely everything we could. There's nothing to second guess anymore, Tony."

Tony nodded. "Yeah, shame on us for turning it on each other."

"Even without the video, we figured it out though, didn't we?"

Tony opened his arms. "Come here, McGeek."

Tim pursed his lips. "Please don't kiss me."

"Don't make me chase you around this plane."

McGee gave in and accepted the hug. He winced as Tony planted a wet one on his temple. "You're stuck with me, Probie."

McGee extricated himself. "Okay. Okay. I get it."

Tony smiled. "Say something sweet, Timmy."

McGee rolled his eyes. "I have a headache."

"Save that one for the bedroom, McLovin'."

Everyone laughed as McGee retreated to his seat, a smile tugging at his mouth.

"You got an interesting bunch, Gibbs." Parker said.

"Oh yeah."

The door to the cockpit opened and Fornell came out. Parker looked up. "Are we ready for takeoff?"

Fornell shook his head. "It only took the jury two hours."

"And?"

"Guilty on all charges."

"Thank God!" Tony threw his arms up. "Let's go home. I am ready for everything to go back to normal."

Gibbs nodded at Parker. "Mind dropping us off?"

Parker got up and headed for the cockpit.

"Speaking of normal, you haven't done your breathing exercises yet today." Ziva frowned at him.

"I'm in the middle of a game here."

Ducky sat back. "The game can wait."

"No!"

Gibbs gave him a warning look. "We had a deal. Ducky is going to make sure you do your nebulizer. Ziva's in charge of your exercises, and McGee is making sure you get to your therapy appointments every week."

"I'm a grown man, Boss."

"And we're your team. A while back, I told you that the team doesn't work without McGee. Same goes for you."

DiNozzo sighed. "Alright Nurse Ratchet, get over here. Time to do my exercises."

Ziva smiled. "I always wanted to be a nurse."

"Yes, it is certainly the world's loss."

She pulled him to the back of the plane. "I note your sarcasm, my friend."

Gibbs sat down across from McGee. "Head still bothering you?"

McGee shook his head. "Doing fine, Boss. You know me. Just didn't want any more hugs."

"You okay with me sticking you with his appointments?"

He glanced back at Tony and Ziva arguing at the back of the plane and he nodded. "Wouldn't have it any other way."

….

The End


End file.
